Making Memories
by ermynee322
Summary: Three years ago, Hermione removed herself from Ron's memory. Now, the spell is broken and Ron is bloody hacked off about it. But could Hermione have good reasons for what she did, reasons that might mean the difference between life and death? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Hi all! I've had the idea for this story for a while, came after I read another ff story about Hermione removing herself from Ron's memory. I thought, "What could make Hermione do that?" This is what resulted. Please read and respond, comments are always welcome!_

_Also, I do not own Harry Potter. I wish._

The weather had been horrible all day, and the boots of Captain General Harry Potter left a trail of wet footprints as he walked quickly down the marble corridor. The dark interior of the Ministry of Magic had changed little since the end of the Great Battle three years earlier, though most of the staff inside the building were indeed new. The wizarding world was a different place now, more hopeful and open minded since the end of Tom Riddle's reign of terror. But that didn't mean there wasn't still evil to be fought.

Harry had spent the last three years training, working, fighting and tracking down every last known death eater that had plagued the magical communities of Britain and beyond. He'd been promoted early and often in his career and currently led one of the most skilled auror teams the defense department had ever known. They'd been set to go out on one of their most dangerous missions yet, but there was a problem. There was always a problem.

"You want to tell me the meaning of this?" Harry stormed into the small holding room, where a lone figure sat in a chair front and center. His ginger hair matched the shade of red his face was quickly becoming. He was a few inches taller than he had been during his last years at Hogwarts and had grown wider and leaner throughout his chest and arms. But it was the same temper underneath.

"Give me a break," General Ron Weasley shouted back, shooting his boss and best mate a rude gesture. "You think I have any bloody idea what's going on here?"

Harry looked down at the sheaf of papers handed to him earlier that day by his boss, Auror Department Head Theodore Trottle. The papers were meant to explain why Ron had been barred from this particular mission, but Harry couldn't make any sense of it. Scanning the notes, he read something about failure to pass mental inspection.

"Mental?" Harry said quietly to himself.

"Is that what they said?" Ron shouted, throwing his hands over his head in exasperation. "Mental my arse. You should have got a look at the git they had administering this test. He kept going on about 'Look into the light son' and 'Hop around on one foot and touch your nose.' I think they need to get him checked out next, if you ask me."

Harry gave his friend a bemused grin. In the ten years the two had known each other, Ron had never failed to pinpoint the ridiculous in a situation.

"Hello boys," said a loud voice from behind Harry. Both men turned to see Mr. Theodore Trottle walk into the room, closing the door behind him. He carried a hefty stack of papers and conjured up a chair to sit in front of Ron in the center of the room. Harry leaned casually against the wall, curious to learn what Trottle had discovered.

"It seems we have a bit of a problem here, eh Ron?" Ron nodded in response, keeping his mouth shut lest he blow up again in front of his department head.

"They say he's not fit for his mission," Harry said. "Which is frankly unacceptable. As you know Mr. Trottle, this next job is equally important and dangerous, and I need Ron out there on this."

"I agree Potter. And no one's saying Ron's not fit. We all know the two of you are the best pair we have on the job."

Harry nodded, feeling no need to balk at the compliment. Both he and Ron had earned their reputation, not least of all because of their work destroying the seven horcruxes that led to the fall of Tom Riddle. To this day, the wizarding world was still writing books and engaging in debates on the efforts of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, asking the same question over and over: How did two boys, all by themselves, finally manage to kill Voldemort?

"We've found a blockage somewhere in the cerebrum of Ron's mind," Mr. Trottle continued. "It's an unnatural block, something that could have only been done by magic."

"You mean someone's messed with my brain?"

"That explains some things," Harry joked quietly. Ron scowled at him.

"Precisely," Mr. Trottle said. "It's contained in the memory center, but it's not like any memory charm I've ever seen. It's some complicated wand work."

Ron looked deep in thought, as Harry tried to puzzle out what this could mean for his friend.

"What will we do?"

"Well, we'll keep Ron here for a few days until we can break the enchantment, then I think everything should be fine."

"Right," Ron said. "Then I'll remember whatever it is I've been made to forget?"

"Exactly."

Harry continued to peruse the idea. It didn't sit right with him. Who would go after Ron's memory, and what could they have possibly altered? And why?

"Mr. Trottle," Harry said slowly, "whoever's messed with his memory, how would we go about finding and punishing them?"

A brief frown passed over Trottle's face as he considered it.

"I'm not certain Potter," he said finally. "Whoever did this, they went to a lot of trouble to cover something up. I've not seen magic this intricate in some time. It took a person of incredible intelligence to do it."

…..

The tea kettle whistled from the small kitchen and the young woman moved briskly to the stove. Walking with the kettle over to the cupboard to retrieve a cup, she passed her open window and took a moment to admire the view of the green hills and rocky cliffs outside. The scenery in Cornwall was beautiful, and she was once again pleased she had chosen the tiny village of Tintagel to settle down in.

She walked into the sitting room of her small cottage, scanning for a book to read. The walls were crammed with books on shelves and she would sometimes read several a day. Her job at the town library kept her well stocked with reading options, a good thing as she had little else to entertain her. Certainly none of the electronics like televisions or DVD players that were common in the other muggle homes in her village. Not that she had many neighbors. Her little home was tucked well out of the way of the town's high street, and she liked it that way.

She settled in on the sofa with a book she knew well and read often. Skimming her fingers over the title, "Hogwarts: A History," she felt her breath hitch for just a second before she regained her composure. While reading this particular title was sometimes difficult, she liked keeping just one reminder of the wizarding world nearby; she had no other keepsakes to remind her that she had once belonged to a great, magical world. No flying owls delivered post to her door, no dishes cleaned themselves in the kitchen. In fact, she didn't even own a wand anymore. It had been three long years since Hermione Granger had uttered a spell, the most difficult spell she had ever had to cast.


	2. Chapter 2

_I've had this story in my head for weeks, so I'm trying to get it down as quickly as possible. So, two updates in one day! Thanks for reading, and responses are always appreciated!_

"How much longer, do you think?" Ginny Weasley gripped the edge of her paper tea cup, not bringing herself to actually drink the Ministry's disgusting brew. She was worried about Ron, his procedure seemed to be taking longer than necessary, and she looked to her fiancé for some comfort.

"I'm not sure, Gin," Harry replied, reaching to take one of her hands in his own. He played with the small diamond on her left ring finger and smiled. "I'm sure he'll be out soon."

It had been a trying four days. The entire Weasley clan had taken shifts sitting with Ron, who was forced to stay on site during the research into breaking down his block. He was plenty safe there on his own, but after losing one Weasley son three years ago the whole family had become a lot more cautious. No one wanted to let Ron out of their sight.

Mum and Dad had been there most of the time, of course, and George would stop in whenever he wasn't at the shop. Percy had popped in once or twice and even Bill and Fleur had apparated in a few times from Shell Cottage. Charlie was out of the country, but Ginny was making up for it by being there almost constantly, even though she was supposed to be in training for the Harpies. And then, of course, there was Lavender.

Ron and Lavender had been going out for almost five years already. They'd broken things off for a while when Ron was with Harry on the horcrux hunt, but they'd picked up again not too long after. Lavender was a constant presence in the Weasley household, though not an all together welcome one. It was a bit like when Bill started bringing Fleur around, except that nobody had warmed to Lavender's…ways. Even Mum, who was usually the first to encourage her sons down the altar, had yet to utter one word about Ron needing to settle down already.

"Ginny, I brought you more tea."

Ginny looked up to see Lavender standing before her, all blond hair and smiles, holding out another cup of disgusting tea.

"Erm, thanks." Ginny took the cup and placed the old one on the floor under her chair in the waiting room.

"Is he out yet?" Lavender asked, a worry line across her forehead. The poor girl looked genuinely frightened. _Maybe I should go easier on her_, Ginny thought to herself.

"I'm just so worried about my Won-Won!"

_Maybe not._

"By my calculations, they should be finishing up," Harry said from next to Ginny. He looked at his watch and sighed. "Any minute now, Ron will have back whatever this lost memory is."

Ginny frowned. She'd been going over and over it for days, trying to figure out what piece of information might have been taken from Ron. Was it dangerous? Was it something that should be kept hidden? Ginny internally scolded herself. Of course it shouldn't be kept hidden. Whatever it was, Ron had a right to know. No one deserved to have their mind tampered with, no matter how painful the memory. She knew that much firsthand.

Suddenly, Ginny felt like she was in a fog. Her vision blurred and she began blinking rapidly, the images in front of her swaying as if under water. She was having trouble remembering what she had just been thinking, couldn't quite figure out where she was or what she was supposed to be doing. Ginny looked to Harry, who seemed to be in the same state, blinking just as quickly and reaching out in front of him. The two clasped hands and Harry raised his free palm to his forehead, as he had done so many times during his youth. Then, almost as soon as the feeling had come, it passed and the fog was lifted.

The tea cup dropped from Ginny's hand onto the floor.

"Oh!" She gasped, a hand flying up to cover her mouth. She turned to Harry, who sat stunned, looking like he'd been hit with a bludger.

Harry stared back at Ginny, an expression of pure panic on his face, and said one word: "Hermione."

The pair jumped up from their seats, rushing from the waiting room down an empty corridor. Lavender followed behind, sputtering awkwardly.

"Oh my gosh you guys…did you feel that…Hermione…oh my goodness…I haven't thought of her in years."

Lavender trailed off as Harry pushed open the door leading to the room Ron was being treated in. He stopped short at the entrance of the room. There, balled up in one corner on the floor, sat his best mate, sobbing like he hadn't seen anyone sob in years. Ginny pulled up behind Harry and upon seeing Ron, turned to usher Lavender out of the room. Harry barked for the attendants to clear out then shut the door as soon as he and Ron were alone.

Ron was in a heap, folded in on himself as if in physical pain. The truth wasn't far off. Harry was reminded of a time Ron looked similar, sprawled by a lake in the Forest of Dean, both of them soaking wet and a destroyed horcrux sitting between them.

"Oh God," wailed a miserable Ron, clutching at his head and rocking back and forth. Harry walked over to him and crouched down on the floor, placing a tentative hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron jumped as if surprised there was someone else in the room. He raised his face up from his knees and met Harry's steady gaze. Ron's eyes were red and glassy, and behind them Harry could read hurt, anger and confusion.

"Harry?" Ron asked in a broken sob. Harry nodded back at his friend. "Why?"

Harry racked his brain, trying to make sense out of the flood of information assaulting him. Hermione, _of course_ he knew Hermione. But he had somehow forgotten her. It was like she'd been erased for the past…what…three years? How was that possible? Hermione had been a part of everything, every train ride to Hogwarts, every meal, every study session where she nagged him to do his homework. Harry choked back a sob himself, the emotion of it washing over him. Hermione had helped him and Ron destroy Tom Riddle, they would both be dead if not for her. How could the world not know that?

"I don't know Ron," Harry finally answered. "But I'll find out who did this."

"Hermione," Ron moaned, cradling his head in his hand again.

"I know," Harry said. "We'll find out what happened to her, I promise. We'll catch whoever did this."

"No," Ron said, shaking his head and taking in gulps of air, as if speaking were costing him something as dear as oxygen. "It was Hermione…Hermione did this to me."


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione's hands fumbled with the dishes in the sink, as a clap of thunder caused her once again to drop the plate she was washing. The plate sank into the soapy water she'd filled the basin with, landing at the bottom of the sink with a clank.

"Get a hold of yourself," she said quietly. She wasn't used to being in the cottage by herself for this many days in a row. That, paired with the weather outside, was making her nervous.

She finished the washing up and went into her bedroom to pull out a sweater. The rain had sent a chill through the house and Hermione instinctively reached for her favorite jumper, maroon and hand-knit. She rubbed the faded R emblazoned at the front, now almost too worn out to be read. Burying her face into the wool she inhaled deeply and was reminded of amortentia.

Thinking better of it, Hermione hung the jumper back in her closet. It wouldn't do to give in to memories. Instead, she pulled out a warm gray cardigan and pulled it over her night dress, running her hands up her arms to generate some heat.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

Hermione wasn't expecting visitors. Rarely did a neighbor stop by for a chat, and never at this hour or with this sort of rain storm going on outside. She walked timidly down the hallway separating her bedroom from the front door. As she stood ten feet away from the door, pondering what to do, there was a second knock. This one was more insistent, the sound reverberating through the house so that the walls shook with the effort.

"Wh-who is it?" Hermione called out. It was times like this she cursed herself for having given up her wand. Perhaps she should have kept it, hidden in a drawer somewhere, just in case.

There was a long pause and no answer. Emboldened and putting on more bravado than she had, Hermione spoke up once more.

"You should know I've called the police and they're on their way. So you should just leave, whoever you are."

There were a few more seconds of silence, before a deep male voice responded.

"Hermione, it's me."

She froze, the words hitting her like cold water. Even with three years' time between them and the clamor of rain and thunder outside, Hermione would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Harry?" His name was a question, not a statement, and was filled with disbelief. It sounded like Harry, but that was impossible. Harry didn't know she existed, let alone where to find her. Hermione's fingers itched to pull the door open and see for herself, see what he looked like, how he had grown, if his eyes were the same. She took a few breaths to clear her head. She couldn't be rash here. Either this was Harry or someone impersonating Harry, and either way she was dealing with a situation from the magical world. That meant this could be dangerous.

"Where did we spend summer before fourth year?"

"At the burrow," Harry replied. Hermione pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. It was sort of an obvious answer, everyone who knew Harry knew he spent every summer at the burrow. Hermione heard what sounded like whispers from behind the door, almost as if Harry were talking to someone. Then Harry spoke again, louder this time.

"And we went to the Quidditch World Cup," he said. "It's really me Hermione. You'd better open up." He said the last bit not like a command, more like a defeated plea. Hermione suddenly felt cold dread for what was waiting for her behind that door.

She reached a tentative hand forward, turned the knob, and opened the door.

In all her life she would never forget his face. He stood stock still, wearing a heavy black coat. His clothes and hair were matted down with rain, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in days. _When did his facial hair start growing so fast,_ she wondered. Then she looked in his green eyes, covered with the same round glasses, and he gave her a small smile. It looked almost as if he were glad to see her, and Hermione was suddenly consumed with the need to hug him.

She took a step forward but was interrupted as a bulking figure pushed in between her and Harry, walking across the threshold and into the hallway of her home. She turned to protest at the figure, then saw the unmistakable color of Weasley red hair.

The shock of him left her powerless to speech or rational thought. She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to focus and stay on task. Standing in her hallway was Ron. He was the person she dreamed about every night, he was the person whose name was like a prayer to her. He was also the last person on Earth she ever wanted to see again. Hermione took a deep breath that ended in a gulp. When she opened her eyes and saw him still standing there, glaring at her, she knew that her hardest work was still before her.

"Why don't you both come in?" She swept her arms to indicate they should all walk into the living room. Ron started first, walking into the room and placing himself unceremoniously onto the sofa, a puddle forming at his feet. Harry walked in next, taking a careful seat next to his friend. Hermione hovered awkwardly in the space between the entryway and the two boys. No, men.

"Would you like some tea? I'll get some." Hermione rushed off to the kitchen, speaking to herself as she made quick work of readying a tea tray.

"Be calm, Hermione, you know why you're doing this. Just keep the story simple, catch up, and they'll be on their way." She paused to wait for the tea kettle to heat up, tapping one finger on the counter. Not that she was anxious to return to the living room, but the sooner this business got started, the sooner it would be over.

Hermione walked back to the living room holding a tray filled with a kettle, tea cups, milk, sugar and biscuits. She lowered the tray onto the coffee table and took a seat in an arm chair next to the sofa. Hermione took a moment then to look Ron over head to toe. He looked older, obviously, but in a way that didn't just come from aging. His eyes were darker, heavier, and his hair was longer than she'd ever seen it, even in fourth year. His skin was still pale and freckled, but his arms were bulkier and his shoulders wider. It looked like he had gotten taller, too, if that was possible. And he was oozing rage, the anger rolling off of him in waves.

"Here, have some," Hermione said finally. She reached out and prepared a cup for Harry, dropping one sugar cube in and handing it to him. She then picked up a second cup and filled it half way with tea, half way with milk, and dropped two sugar cubes in. Just the way Ron liked it. She placed the cup on a saucer and held it out to Ron. The china cup clinked against the saucer, and Hermione begged her hands to cooperate and stop shaking. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as Ron finally took the cup from her.

"So, how have you two been?"

Hermione's question was halted by a crashing sound, as Ron threw his tea cup across the room. It shattered as it hit the wall across from Ron, the pieces of china hitting the floor and the tea making a dark stain against the wallpaper.

"M'not thirsty," Ron nearly growled at her.

Hermione winced at the sound of the breaking cup, her arms flying up in front of her as if to protect against some curse.

"Let's all calm down here," Harry said, placing his arms out to keep the two others apart. Hermione had jumped out of her seat and stood in front of the coffee table, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I don't know what she's got to be hacked of about," Ron said, speaking to Harry but drilling Hermione with his eyes.

"Well," Harry said in a controlled voice, "you have shown up at her home in the middle of the night and begun breaking her things."

"I'll break as many damned things as I like!" Ron shouted, his voice several decibels louder than before. "I'll break anything I like, and then put it back together with this." Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket and pointed it menacingly at Hermione.

"You know what this is, don't you?" Ron continued. "It's a wand. Perfect for fixing things like broken cups. What it's not usually used for, though, is turning your best friends into guinea pigs for your latest magic experiment!"

Hermione stood frozen in front of him, not sure if she was supposed to respond here. She had backed up so far that she was now flush against the wall with the new tea stain, the dampness of it seeping through her cardigan. It was the first time in her life she had ever been truly afraid of Ron Weasley.

"Don't look at me like that!" he roared. "Get out your wand!"

Hermione shook her head helplessly, trying to form words but unable to speak. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

"What's that?" Ron asked sarcastically. "Miss Know It All's run out of words, has she? Get out your wand and fight me!"

"Easy, easy mate," Harry said suddenly. He positioned himself in front of Hermione, his wand drawn but not raised, ready to shield off any hexes Ron might start throwing.

"I…I don't have a wand," Hermione said finally. "I got rid of it. After." With that, Hermione ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. She turned the faucet on the sink to generate some noise, crouched over the toilet, and threw up.


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, we've got angry Ron here. It's all going to get a whole lot worse though before it gets better! Thanks for reading!_

Ron woke with a headache. A slash of sunlight fell across his face, though he didn't know the source of the brightness. Opening his eyes, he realized he was in an unfamiliar place. The drawn curtains of a window hung above him and he lay on a strange couch. Fully alert now, he hopped to his feet, wand in hand.

"Hermione's place," Harry grumbled from a spot on the floor. "We're at Hermione's place."

Ron's shoulders relaxed for a second, then instantly tensed up again. _I'm at Hermione's place_. The implication of what that meant was too complex to fathom. Three days ago, he didn't know there was a Hermione. Now he was crashing on her couch.

_God_, he thought, _I didn't know there was a Hermione_.

It was routine for aurors to get looked at before a mission, but it usually consisted of just a physical check. This mission he and Harry had been working toward was special. He didn't know the particulars yet, only Harry had been fully briefed, but it had to do with a prophecy. Ron's only previous experience with the prophecy business had been that awful night in the department of mysteries, so he knew it was serious. The prep work had included a full body and mental check. Which was when he discovered there was something wrong with him.

When he had been assigned to the recovery room for magical removal, he had gone over the various possibilities of what the attendants might find. He thought an ex death eater may have been responsible. He'd had some close run ins with Shraxen and Willigsbee about a year ago, and had spent his fair share of time at St. Mungo's. There was even one time the healers didn't think he would pull through. He'd give anything never to see his mother in that state of despair again.

But none of the spells or injuries or death eaters had prepared him for what the attendants discovered. No evil mastermind had cursed him, Hermione had. _Hermione_. The girl who had been his best friend, and then his…something else. He had fought beside her and very nearly died beside her. Almost died _for_ her. And she had cursed him. Why?

For the others, it was like a switch was snapped and they just suddenly remembered that they knew Hermione Granger. For him, it was different. Because he was the one she had turned her wand on. So he remembered her actually doing it, remembered him walking up to him, speaking to him, then pointing her wand at him. He could even remember the swirl of blue light coming at him. He had been curious but not suspicious. It was Hermione after all, what would she do to harm him? And then, he remembered nothing. Hermione was, just, gone.

Remembering it all again that day at the Ministry was a nightmare Ron had to live in daylight. He felt confused, like he was drugged and couldn't remember his own name. He felt such sadness, like the dementors all over again. He was angrier than he'd ever been, the rage in him threatening to boil over on whoever came near him first. It was like he was a caged animal let loose for the first time, clawing at everything around it.

But was made him angrier than anything else, were the other feelings bubbling at the surface. Elation. Joy. Gratitude. Like he had found a missing puzzle piece he'd been searching for his entire life. Like some great prize had finally been returned to him. Hermione Granger existed and he was glad for it. He wanted to thank the universe for it. He was in lo…

No. He wouldn't say that. Not even think it. Any happiness he had felt at the removal of the memory curse would be pushed away. Because she had betrayed him. And he would never again show her what it had cost him, how it had affected him. Now, for all he cared, she could go to hell.

"Thinking heavy thoughts?" Harry asked, sitting up from his makeshift bed on the floor and securing his glasses on his nose.

"I'm fine. What's the plan?"

Last night after Hermione had shut herself up in the bathroom, Harry had been able to sneak far enough into the room to hit her with a calming spell. She quickly fell into a deep sleep and Harry had carried her to bed. They'd decided to stay the night, as their business wasn't finished. Now, it was well into morning and Ron was anxious to finish up and leave.

The thought made him stop, paralyzed with fear for a moment. If they left now, would he ever see her again? Ron shook his head of the thought. That wasn't a concern now. He was only thinking that way because of where he was, in her living room, surrounded by her things. He glanced around the room, the mounds of books proof enough to tell him it was Hermione's home even if he didn't know anything else about the place.

"Good morning."

Ron looked across the room to see Hermione, standing cautiously against the wall of the living room entry way. She wore a light blue nightgown with a robe over it. Her hair was shorter than years before but no less wild. He wanted to touch it. Instead, he glared at her.

"Hey," Harry said, standing up. "Did you sleep okay?"

Hermione nodded. "Did you stun me?"

"No," Harry said. "Calming spell. You seemed pretty upset."

"Right," Hermione said. She looked like she didn't know whether she should thank Harry or berate him for using the spell. Ron smirked at the irony.

"Should we get some breakfast?" Hermione asked finally.

"Sure," Harry said. "Do you have any toast?"

"I thought we might go in town. There's a little pub. It's not much but maybe it would be good for us to talk there."

_In public_, Ron thought to himself, silently ending her sentence. She was obviously afraid he was going to lash out again. Well she could hold her breath. He didn't plan to speak to her anymore than was necessary for the duration of the day.

Hermione went off to change and Ron folded up the few blankets he and Harry had used to sleep on. It's not like he had a change of clothes, he hadn't known he'd be having a sleepover. He watched Harry closely, trying to figure out what his friend's next move would be. After the blazing shock of remembering Hermione, he and Harry had initiated a search squad to track her down. It had taken them surprisingly little time, Hermione hadn't hidden herself well, at least not well enough to hide from two people who knew her they way he and Harry did. Or at least used to. But they had pushed aside all other assignments, and Ron knew Trottle would be expecting this thing to get wrapped up quickly so they could all move on. Bloody likely.

"We'll tell her the extent of it at breakfast," Harry said, as if reading Ron's thoughts. "She can't cause a scene in a pub, and she doesn't have a wand now, so no canaries."

Ron glowered at Harry's attempt at a joke. She may not have a wand, but she was certainly capable of inflicting pain. And she wasn't going to like what Harry had to tell her.

Hermione emerged then dressed for the day in sensible jeans, boots and a jacket. She held out two knit scarves. Harry took one and she held the other in Ron's general direction.

"It can get cold out there," she said quietly.

"I'll survive."


	5. Chapter 5

_So, some questions are answered here, and more are raised. Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews!_

The pub was nearly deserted. There was a young guy manning the bar and one middle aged woman walking about checking up on things; she seemed to be the owner. An old man sat by himself in the back, sipping from a coffee mug.

Harry was drinking his own coffee carefully, as if any sudden move might break the precipice he, Ron and Hermione were standing on. He glanced at Ron sitting next to him in the booth. Ron was on a second glass of whiskey, after quickly downing the first in one gulp. Harry looked at his watch, which read nine thirty am. This wasn't a good start.

"After the war, I felt so overwhelmed with everything. I didn't know if I would be going back to school, or if there would even be a school to go back to. I just wanted to start over, where no one knew me as Hermione Granger, 'War Hero.'"

Hermione had been filling them in on why she left. It didn't sound like a convincing story, though Hermione was doing her best to put energy and smiles into the tale. She told them about finding the town in Cornwall, purchasing the cottage, getting a job at the library. It all sounded nice enough, except for one fact: Hermione would have never deserted them.

"What about your parents?" Harry asked. "Don't you see them anymore?"

"Um, no. They…I never reversed their memories. They're still in Australia. I figured, they have a nice life there, why mess it up?"

Ron looked up then, the first sign he'd given all morning that he was listening. He watched Hermione with a curious expression…maybe sympathy? Harry wanted to ask more questions, but was interrupted by the middle aged woman, standing at their table.

"Can I get you and your friends anything else, Hermione?"

"No, thanks Gladys. I think we're fine."

"It's so nice to see you in here with guests," Gladys said, smiling now at Harry and Ron. "She's always in here alone, keeps to herself. Though I know Johnny over there wouldn't mind keeping her company." Gladys nodded toward the barman and Harry turned to look, though Ron kept his head resolutely forward, staring into his whiskey glass.

"Okay, thanks Gladys," Hermione said quickly, clearly embarrassed.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Gladys said. "You know he's sweet on you, and you need to be out with young people. It's not natural, a pretty girl like you being all alone…"

"You know what Gladys," Harry interrupted, "I would love some more coffee. It's delicious."

"Well, great. I'll go get that for you, honey."

Gladys walked off with a purpose and Hermione shot Harry a grateful smile. He shrugged back in response.

"So, how did you do it? The spell I mean. We couldn't figure it out."

"Oh, um, it was a basic memory charm combined with obliviate and…"

"Yeah?"

"A fidelius charm. It's why I only had to charm one person, but everyone forgot me. It's like I was hidden."

"How does that work? It's not like you asked Ron to protect a secret."

"But I did. He just wasn't aware of it. The memory and obliviate charms took care of his forgetting, and the fidelius ensured he would never remember, because I needed him not to." She paused to take a deep breath. "It would only work like that with someone who you knew would never betray you."

Hermione glanced down at her plate, looking pained. Ron finished the rest of his liquid breakfast in one gulp.

"That's great," he said. "Can we go?"

"No," Harry said, putting an arm out to stop Ron from leaving. "Hermione, I have to tell you something. When we began looking for you, it started an investigation. We've spent the last three years investigating people of suspicion and this showed up on the Ministry's radar. There has to be a full report here."

"What are you saying?"

"You have to come back with us."

"Come back?" Hermione sat back quickly, sputtering and looking panicked. "I can't come back. I…I have a life here, and things to do."

"I'm sure the library can do without you for a few days," Ron snickered. Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"I absolutely cannot come. It's out of the question."

"If you don't come peacefully with us now," Harry said slowly, "Ministry officials will show up at your home and take you forcibly to Azkaban."

Hermione sat frozen for a moment, her mouth open in an O shape. Then, before she could respond, an arm stretched itself across the table, holding a coffee pot.

"Another cuppa for you dear?" Gladys asked.

"No, no thank you. I'm good now."

"Shame. Hermione, when is Sandy getting back in town? Should be soon, right?"

"Um, yes. This evening actually. I need to go now, Gladys." Hermione jumped up from the booth and threw some pound notes on the table. She grabbed her bag and ran out the door in haste. Harry sighed and shot up as well, giving Gladys an apologetic look before darting out onto the street. The sound of footsteps behind him told him Ron wasn't far behind.

"Hermione, you're being unreasonable," he shouted toward the bobbing head of brunette hair in front of him. She was walking with speed down the high street, turning on a side path to begin climbing the hill that Harry knew led to her cottage. He picked up his own speed, though he knew there was no danger of Hermione outrunning them.

"Leave me alone!" She rushed up the steps of her cottage and thrust the front door open, slamming it shut behind her. Harry reached the front door seconds after her and Ron pulled up behind him. The redhead hadn't broken a sweat, having to exert less energy than the rest of them to keep up with his long legs. Harry banged on the door.

"Hermione, I am coming in there whether you like it or not!" He twisted the door knob to find it, unsurprisingly, locked. "Alohomora."

The door opened with a click and both Harry and Ron entered. The house was dark, but it didn't take long to find Hermione in the small space. She stood in the kitchen, her back to them, leaning over the sink. Her shoulders were shaking.

"Harry, I am begging you. Please leave here and don't come back."

"There's no choice here. If I don't bring you back, the consequences will be worse for you. But if you come now, I can probably smooth this over and make it go away quickly. I can even keep you at the burrow, you won't need to stay with the Ministry."

Harry would have said more to soothe her, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hermione turned at the sound, all color drained from her face. She looked like she had seen a ghost. No, she looked like she had seen Voldemort himself. Harry had never seen her so frightened.

"It's okay, you can get the door."

"I'll fight you," Hermione said in a small voice. Harry fought the feeling of pride in his gut. Even now, she was the same girl, brave to a fault.

"Hermione, we're two well trained aurors. You don't have a wand, and you haven't done magic in three years. You wouldn't stand a chance."

"You wouldn't turn your wand on me."

Ron let out a low, mean chuckle. "Feel good, does it?"

Hermione was quiet again, as if weighing her options. She seemed to come to come to some sort of conclusion, nodding to herself and squaring her shoulders.

"Are you going to get the door then?" Harry asked. Hermione crossed the floor of the kitchen in a few long strides and exited. Harry stood next to Ron, who looked uncomfortable with the way things had gone. In fact, he looked like he would rather be anywhere else on Earth right now. Harry heard the front door click open and Hermione greet whoever was on the other side.

"Sorry I'm early Hermione," a female voice said. "But I got called in to work."

"That's fine Sandy. Thanks for the help, I really needed the break."

Harry heard the door shut again, and he heard Hermione's footsteps as she walked toward to kitchen again. The footsteps stopped just outside the entrance to the kitchen, then started up again.

Hermione reemerged in the kitchen in front of Harry and Ron. In her arms was a smiling, redheaded toddler.


	6. Chapter 6

_Hermione faces the burrow. Thanks for reading and responding!_

Ginny straightened the curtains once more and looked out the window for the millionth time. They weren't due for a few more minutes, but she couldn't help checking, just in case. The burrow was full to near capacity. After Harry's owl, word had spread quickly in the family, leading to lots of visitors. Bill and Fleur were upstairs, Percy would stop by after work, and of course Mum and Dad were home. And yet here she was, the only one tidying up. Well, not exactly the only one.

"Mum, please don't hover behind me, it's distracting."

"Sorry dear," Molly Weasley said, turning to dust down an end table. She was only feigning interest in the housework. "Tell me again exactly what Harry said."

"I've already told you," Ginny said with a sigh. "They found Hermione, they're bringing her here, and she has a child."

"Yes, well, that's the part I can't quite wrap my head around. Does she have a husband? Is she raising this child all on her own? How in the short time she's been gone did she manage to meet someone and have a baby?"

Ginny looked at her Mum, unsure of how far Molly's naivete might go.

"Mum, it is possible, you know…maybe she was pregnant before she left."

"No," Molly said with a gasp. "It couldn't be. That would mean the father was….Oh no, you can't think that."

"I think quite a few of us think that," said George Weasley from behind the pages of the "Evening Prophet." He was perched on an armchair, his feet propped up on the coffee table. He sat there, casually reading the paper, as if oblivious to the melee going on around him. But Ginny wasn't fooled. He was anxiously waiting for the chaos to ensue, his favorite environment for the Weasley household.

"Get your feet off the table, young man." Molly swatted at George's feet and he sat up at his mother's insistence. Ginny turned her attention back to the window and saw three familiar figures apparate into the clearing in front of the burrow.

"Well, whatever the answer, we won't have to wait long to get it."

Molly and George rushed to the window at Ginny's declaration and they all peered outside together. Sure enough, there were Ron and Harry guiding a scared-looking Hermione toward the house. And in Hermione's arms was a little girl in pigtails.

"Look at her hair," Molly whispered.

"Weasley red," George and Ginny said together.

"They're here!" Molly shouted throughout the house. Footsteps could instantly be heard running around the various stairwells of the burrow. Angelina Johnson slid down the banister and into the living room, landing just before her husband, George. Arthur walked in from the den where he had been fiddling with a muggle hair dryer he'd recently acquired, and Bill and Fleur walked down from the guest room. Bill carried his young daughter Victoire on his shoulders.

"Eet ees so exciting!" Fleur gushed. The whole group was a mirrored image of excitement, as everyone bustled about the room trying to find a spot. As the front door opened down the hallway, the group froze in a mock casual pose, just in time for the reunited trio to walk into the room.

There was a pause as the two groups, one large one smaller, took each other in. No one seemed to know where to look, least of all Hermione, who settled on staring at her feet. The silence continued as all of the Weasleys, both new and old, took in the sight of the almost forgotten Hermione.

Finally, Hermione looked up, took a deep breath, and said a quiet, "Hello."

Molly exploded in applause.

"Oh, my dear, I can't believe it's you." Molly pulled Hermione to her is a crushing hug. "I can't believe we almost lost you. Oh, you darling girl, it just hasn't been the same without you. Let me look at you. Have you been eating?"

Molly pushed Hermione away from her again to get a good look at the young woman, as Ron rolled his eyes over Harry's shoulder. Looking at Hermione once more, Molly noticed, as if for the first time, the child Hermione carried.

"Hi," the girl said in a sweet child's voice. "I'm Wose."

"She means Rose," Hermione said, smiling down at the child. "She's having trouble with R sounds."

"Oh," Molly said nicely. "Hello Rose. I'm Mrs. Weasley." The two shook hands, with Rose grasping one of Molly's fingers to say hello. Clearly charmed, Molly motioned to Hermione to ask if she might hold the girl. Hermione nodded and passed the child off, looking toward the rest of the Weasleys once more.

"Hermione." She quickly turned her head to find the source of the voice. Ginny took a step forward from the group, looking unsure if she should keep moving or stay in place.

"Ginny?" Hermione's cry was a question and a shout, as if Hermione were surprised to find her friend there. Ginny took another tentative step forward, warring within herself. She was no longer sure if she was supposed to be angry with Hermione or not. She had deceived them all and Ron had been so upset. But it had been so long and Ginny hadn't realized before how much she'd been missing her best friend. Giving in to the longing, Ginny took two steps forward more quickly as Hermione reacted and rushed forward herself. The women embraced each other in a giant hug, both laughing and crying at the same time.

"Great," Ron whispered, though no one seemed to hear him.

"Oh, I've missed you so much," Hermione said, still crying and smiling.

"We have so much to catch up on," Ginny said, stepping back from the hug. "Look." Ginny held out her left hand where the diamond engagement ring sat.

"Oh my…Ginny, who?" Hermione looked quickly over her shoulder to Harry. "Harry?"

Harry smiled shyly and nodded and Hermione gave a squeal of joy, pulling Ginny back toward her in a hug. The rest of the family began slowly with their own reunions. George shook Hermione's hand, causing a small explosion between their palms. He sheepishly showed her the WWW shake shock product, then embraced Hermione warmly, pushing Angelina forward to say hello. Fleur and Bill gave their own hugs, having grown fond of the girl during her time at Shell cottage. Hermione knelt down to coo over Victoire, playing nicely in a playpen with Rose now. Then, Hermione turned to Arthur, who had stood quietly in the back, watching the display.

"Hi Mr. Weasley, it's nice to see you again."

Arthur walked slowly forward, the effects of war and death making him slower but no less amiable. He gave her a small smile then wrapped his arms tightly around the girl.

"Welcome home, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. The room exploded in noise again, each person congratulating the next on the luck of it, recovering a treasure from a war in which so much could never be brought back.

No one seemed to notice the lone figure who had slunk out of the room and into the back yard, Ron wanting absolutely nothing to do with Hermione's grand return.


	7. Chapter 7

**We've got a new surprise here, unfortunately more questions are raised before we get any answers. Soon though! Thanks for reading!**

…_.._

_Fine bloody time for a party. It's not like anything monumental has happened, not like there's anything worth celebrating. But look at that lot, putting out the cakes and roasts like it's the prodigal daughter returned._

Ron scowled at the scene from his seat on the front porch. Dad had set up a small tent in the yard and heated the interior, claiming the house was too small to accommodate the whole dinner party. Mum had laid out a long table underneath and covered it with trays and trays of food, more food than she prepared each Christmas. Some family. They were traitors, all of them.

Ron swirled his glass of fire whiskey, glad at least that everyone seemed to be getting the hint and was leaving him be. There was no way he was getting drawn into it, you wouldn't see him folding any napkins into swans for the party.

"Ronald Weasley! You get inside this kitchen and start helping this instant young man!"

The sound of his mother's voice shook him from his thoughts, and he dutifully walked back inside with a sigh.

"What?" Ron asked Mum as he entered the kitchen.

"Take these bottles and get them chilled." Mum handed him several bottles of elder wine, taking the glass of fire whiskey from his hand. "And don't you 'what' me!"

Ron rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day, then walked to the kitchen table. He set the bottles out in a row and retrieved a few more from the pantry, then set about cooling them down with his wand. He was just about finished when the sound of a baby's voice distracted him.

"Victoire, I can't play now," Ron said patiently, looking down to where a small toddler was pulling at his pant leg. But it wasn't Victoire, it was Rose. Ron bent down to eye level with the little girl, studying her face as if for the first time. It made him catch his breath.

When Ron and Harry had first seen Rose at Hermione's cottage, Hermione gave them a short story about some village bloke who had run out on her after discovering she was pregnant. She'd made a joke that she'd always had a thing for gingers, a joke that did not make Ron laugh. When he'd first seen Rose he'd felt something similar to what he was feeling now. This child was…familiar to him. Her hair was an unmistakable color, though it had Hermione's thickness. Her small, upturned nose was all Hermione but the eyes were cool blue. Almost as if…

But that was impossible. He and Hermione had never been together, not that way. After the battle they'd spent those first few weeks growing closer together and taking comfort in one another. They'd confessed things to each other and shared some knock out snogging sessions. She'd even told him…told him that she loved him.

But then she left. So it was obviously all a lie. And either way, he and Hermione had never been intimate, so he needed to get all thoughts of this child out of his head.

"Rose, don't run off from me again!" Hermione swooped into the space and snatched up her daughter, burying her nose into the red curls as if she'd been genuinely frightened for the child's well being.

"It's fine," Ron said awkwardly. "I wouldn't have let anything happen to her."

Hermione looked up at him at these words, as if seeing him there for the first time. She nodded slowly in response.

"I know you wouldn't."

Ron let his eyes roam up and down the picture in front of him, a grown up, mature Hermione holding a bouncing redheaded toddler. He'd seen this image before, so many nights in that tent during the hunt thinking there would never be an end, needing a picture of the future to remind him of what he was fighting for. Those days, he just knew if he'd had a Mirror of Erised in front of him, it would have shown him this image he was looking at now.

"Oh Won-Won, I'm so glad you're back!"

Both Ron and Hermione turned at the squeal. Before them stood Lavender Brown, clapping her hands and making a beeline for Ron. Ron looked mildly embarrassed but accepting as Lavender pulled his face to hers and began smothering it with kisses. Hermione watched the display, her skin drained of color and a look similar to disgust on her face.

"Don't ever go away for so long again! They wouldn't even let me see you in recovery, and by the time I heard what happened you were gone!" Lavender paused in her monologue to turn to Hermione. "Ooh, and Hermione, I just can't believe you're here! Ron and I haven't seen you since Hogwarts. You have to tell me absolutely everything that's happened in your life!"

"Um," Hermione looked down at her hand to where Lavender was gripping her, "okay?"

"Oh, sorry, you must be confused," Lavender said with a giggle. "Ron and I are together, we have been this whole time. You'll be seeing a lot of me around here."

Hermione looked at Ron then, searching his face for some sort of confirmation. Ron was staring straight ahead, looking at neither woman. She couldn't tell if he looked ashamed or triumphant.

"Gosh, and look, you have a baby!" Lavender leaned down to get a better look at the child. "Oh my, wow, Hermione she looks just like…"

Lavender stood straight up, her eyes flying to Ron and then looking back at Rose. Her gaze continued to dart between the two for a few seconds, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. You could actually see the moment she made her conclusion.

"Hermione," Lavender said slowly, "who exactly is the father of this child?"

Hermione huffed in indignation.

"Well that's a very personal question to be asking, Lavender."

"Lavender, relax," Ron said quietly. "She's not mine."

Ron looked at Rose almost wistfully as he said it, then looked away as quickly as he could. A crowd was beginning to form in the kitchen. Percy and Audrey had just arrived and had been on their way to greet Hermione, but stopped short when they noticed Lavender's irate face. Mum and Ginny walked in then to get more food to bring outside, and Bill and Harry sat quietly at the kitchen table now, folding napkins into swans.

"I find that difficult to believe!" Lavender shouted in response. "Look at her! And, and, how old is she? She looks almost three. What other redhead was Hermione swooning over three years ago?"

"Actually," Hermione said, with as much confidence as she could muster, "she's two."

"Hermione," Harry said suddenly. "I think we're all a little confused here, as well. She does look quite a bit like, well…you know."

Harry waved his hands helplessly in front of him, as if hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out. Ron continued to bore his gaze into the wall in front of him. He wouldn't look at anyone, and then this whole mess would be over. His jaw was clenched, and he knew it was because he was trying to keep himself from shedding the tears welling up behind his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, helplessly. "I told you. I told you it was someone else, and he left me."

"I know, but, well, look at her."

"I know perfectly well what my daughter looks like, thank you very much!"

Ginny stepped into the middle then, placing an arm around Hermione in support. This was hard on all of them, but turning on each other wasn't going to help things.

"Hermione, would you mind if I did a spell?" Ginny asked quietly. "I did a lot of nursing after the final battle, and I know a quick charm that could help put this all behind us."

"Wh-what kind of spell?"

"A paternity spell."

Hermione looked wildly around, as if trapped and looking for help.

"I, I don't think that's a great idea," she said. "I don't want magic used on my child."

"It won't harm her," Ginny said. "You can trust me."

"I think that's perfect," Lavender said, a note of venom in her voice. Hermione looked at the blond witch, fear in her eyes but also something else, that look she got before a challenge or a great row.

"Okay."

Ginny slowly pulled her wand out and hovered it over little Rose. Rose looked intrigued by the object, while Ginny looked like she might be sick any moment. Ginny chanted a few words that produced a thin line of gold smoke, swirling around Rose's stomach. Ginny then pointed the wand at Ron, muttering the same incantation, a gold swirl of smoke beginning around his own stomach. Ron watched in fascination as the two lines of gold grew and began reaching out toward one another. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, not sure of what he wanted the test to find. Hermione, standing next to him with the baby, looked just as terrified. Finally, the two lines of smoke met and twirled together, wrapping around one another until suddenly the bright gold color tuned to black, and then disappeared all together.

"Well, we can all rest easy," Ginny said, looking almost disappointed. "Ron Weasley is not the father of this child."


	8. Chapter 8

**We're getting closer to some big secrets being revealed. Just want to let everyone know, Hermione is not a villain, I promise! Thanks for reading!**

_What a lovely dinner party_, Hermione thought coolly to herself. Looking down the table, she noticed no one was speaking to one another, a stark change to the merriment everyone had been producing just an hour ago. Goes to show you how Lavender Brown can bring down a mood.

Of course, that wasn't fair. This wasn't Lavender's fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was her own. She should never have come. She shouldn't even be sitting there now eating Mrs. Weasley's chicken and peas. She needed to spend every second trying to figure out how to get herself and Rose out of there. She looked over to where her daughter sat on the yard, playing a game with Victoire. Molly had assured her the girls were safe, protected by the famous Weasley wards from any possible intruders.

She had no wand, and the nearest muggle transportation was miles away. It's not like no one would notice her scooping Rose up and making a run for it. Hermione never thought she'd see the day she'd be held captive by Harry Potter, but then a lot of things had turned out in ways she couldn't have imagined.

Ron wasn't speaking to her again. That moment in the kitchen was the first non-hostile sentence he'd said to her in years, and then it was ruined. By _Lavender_. Ugh. Of all the people he could have ended up with, why did it have to be Lavender? But Hermione knew she shouldn't be cross about it. She'd left Ron, leaving him free for someone else, it's only natural he hadn't sat around single the whole time. Like she had…

"I had the nicest visit with Hagrid last weekend," Lavender said suddenly, interrupting the silence. Hermione raised an eyebrow. _Lavender was chummy with Hagrid?_ What a bizarre world she had created.

"I was going to apparate there, but then of course Ron reminded me that was impossible." Lavender giggled and rubbed Ron's arm. "He just loves quoting his favorite book."

"What book?" Hermione asked automatically. She hadn't meant to speak, but the question flew out of her mouth.

"Hogwarts: A History," Lavendar said, turning to Hermione. Hermione could tell by Lavender's expression that she hadn't yet forgiven Hermione for having a child that looked so much like Ron. "He's read it loads of times."

"Ron has never read Hogwarts: A History," Hermione protested. Her brain was screaming at her to shut up, but her mouth wouldn't listen. Ron, an avid reader?

"Yes he has," Lavender nearly hissed, slanting her eyes. "He's always quoting it, always asking me 'Haven't you ever read Hogwarts: A History?' It's very cute."

Lavender continued rubbing Ron's arm and nodding at him, waiting for Ron to speak up. Ron tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said finally. "I've read it a few times."

Lavender turned back to Hermione, a triumphant look in her eyes.

"When?" Hermione asked quietly, skepticism written all over her face. Ron was silent, looking back and forth between Lavender and Hermione, clearly confused as to whether he should continue the conversation.

"Second year," Harry offered, after a long and awkward silence. "He read it in second year."

Ron glared at Harry, clearly indicating his friend should stop talking. Hermione's attention was laser focused on Harry.

"Second year?' she asked. "But, he never said anything to me. All those times I pestered him to read it, he acted like I was asking him to read hieroglyphics."

"Yes, well, I'm a mysterious guy," Ron said suddenly. "Mum, this chicken is delicious."

"Ron, why did you read it second year?" Lavender asked slowly. Hermione looked down at her plate, pushing peas around with her fork. She already regretted continuing this topic for so long, clearly she'd started some trouble.

"Ron?" Lavender persisted again, more urgently.

"Um, the end of second year…" Ron trailed off, staring at his plate as well. "Well, uh, Hermione was sick. She was in the infirmary, after being petrified."

Hermione swallowed hard, she didn't want to hear anymore. Ron didn't look like he would say anything more anyway.

"Ron stole my invisibility cloak every night," Harry said, continuing where his friend obviously could not. "He thought I didn't know, but he really is a noisy git. He snuck down each night to read to Hermione."

Hermione swallowed again, blinking rapidly and begging her tears to stay at bay. _Please, please don't let me cry now, not here_.

"That was very nice Ron," Ginny said, eyeing her brother as if seeing him in a new light. "Hermione was down there for quite some time."

The whole table was quiet, looking at Ron for some sort of explanation. Silence engulfed the scene, until Ron finally spoke in a clear, low voice.

"One month, two weeks, five days," Ron said, staring even harder at his chicken. Then he looked Hermione straight in the eyes. "I didn't want you to be all alone out there."

Hermione caught her breath, pressing her lips together to keep from crying out. Surely this was the universe punishing her. She was sitting here, looking at Ron, hearing him say such things. And yet she had to keep her distance, not touch him, and she was the one responsible. It was too much, it hurt too much, and Hermione was sure she would crumble any minute at the torture of it.

"Let's change the subject, shall we?" Lavender said briskly, rearranging the napkin on her lap. The table came to life again after a moment where everyone was frozen, enraptured by the story unfolding before them. Audrey started to pass potatoes down the table and Bill began refilling wine glasses, while Arthur clapped Harry on the back to start some shop talk.

"Trottle tells me you and Ron will get started back up on your next case. Any telling when? I hear it's a big one."

"Yes," Harry said, pushing his glasses up. "You know we've been trying to bring in Shraxen and Willigsbee ever since they did that number on Ron last year…"

The rest of Harry's sentence was cut off by the sound of Hermione's plate crashing to the ground. All of the occupants at the table looked to Hermione, who was now crouched on the ground, trying to clean up the mess and mumbling to herself.

_Calm down, calm down_, Hermione thought to herself. "Oh dear," she said out loud. _It can't be, it isn't time, we aren't prepared, how could they have found out?_ Hermione continued to berate herself internally, clearly frightened by Harry's story but looking to everyone like she had finally lost it.

Hermione paused with the bits of broken plate in her hand, closed her eyes and tried to think of what to do. There was a time her mind was sharper than anyone around her, and now it seemed she couldn't think far ahead enough to work out even one problem.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry asked. He had moved from his spot down the table to crouch next to her, helping her pick up the pieces of plate. "Don't cut yourself."

Hermione stood suddenly, dropping the bits of plate on the table. She looked hard at Ron, a frantic urgency in her eyes. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she wasn't sure what to say. Then she closed it again, took a deep breath, and spoke.

"What did they do to you?"

Ron looked up, clearly surprised that the question was addressed to him. Being attacked by two of the nastiest death eaters still at large wasn't something he wanted to spend too much time thinking about, especially considering what a close call it had been.

"They tortured him!" Lavender wailed, misting up. "They crucioed him, then left him for dead in a gutter! Oh, thank goodness Harry found him when he did!"

Lavender flung her arms dramatically around Ron's neck as Hermione continued to watch him. They hadn't killed him. They could have, but they didn't. Hermione closed her eyes in relief.

"He was all right, Ron did great," Harry said quietly, laying down the remaining pieces of broken plate on the table. "It threw us for a loop though. We'd been searching for Shraxen and Willigsbee for some time, they were on a long list of known death eaters in hiding. But we'd had reports that they'd been far away at the time, in Ireland. It didn't make sense, them being in London when they were."

"But you're sure it was them?"

"Yeah, it was them," Ron said, looking haunted. "They kept asking me where my family was. Bit weird. Not that I gave them any information, but everyone knows where to find the Weasley family."

Hermione nodded, feeling her heart sink. She had to get out of here, and fast. Turning from Ron she quickly catalogued her options again, still finding no way to leave efficiently. She decided it would have to wait till later, when everyone was asleep. She scanned the yard then for her daughter, looking for the familiar small red head.

"Rose, no!" Hermione shrieked as she saw that her daughter, who had only just started walking a few months ago, was standing dangerously close to crossing the edge of the protective wards surrounding the Weasley home. With one more step, Rose tumbled over and past the barrier. Looking behind her at her mother's yell, Rose picked herself up again to begin crawling back toward her Mum. And then, with two quick movements, Rose pulled herself back through, crossing the enchanted barriers that would only give way for someone with the last name Weasley.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate it! A lot of the major plot points are going to be unfolding from here on out. Thanks for being patient with me!**

Ginny thought she had seen the burrow in chaos before. She was wrong. The shouting going on right now was deafening. Fortunately, they all had moved inside, as even the muggles four miles north in Ottery St. Catchpole could have heard the screaming going on at the moment.

Mum was shouting at each of her sons in turns, screaming about infidelity and wedlock and other such nonsense. Dad was trying to shout over Mum, begging her to calm down. George screamed back at Mum that he had nothing to do with it, taking moments to turn and yell at Angelina who was whopping him over the head with a rolled up newspaper. Audrey and Percy were having a heated argument next to them, Percy waving his arms and shouting out words like "Preposterous!" and "Absurd!" Both Bill and Lavender were shouting at Ron, slumped in a corner, both of them convinced he had something to do with it. Fleur was pulling on Bill's arm and pleading with him to stop for the sake of the children.

The only people not making a commotion, it occurred to Ginny, were herself, Harry and Hermione. Harry was pensive, deep in thought, and Hermione stood quietly as far away from the rest of them, gently rocking Rose in her arms.

"I don't know why you lot are biting my head off!" Ron finally shouted, jumping up from his seat. "We already did the charm, we know it wasn't me!"

"Well it was somebody!" Mum shouted back. "And we are going to find out who took advantage of sweet Hermione when she was just a girl!"

"Yes, poor sweet Hermione, who never did anything wrong!" Ron replied, suddenly set off. "Are we forgetting SHE TURNED HER WAND ON ME? And, she's standing right here! Why not make _her_ give us an explanation?"

Ron collapsed back in his seat, the energy leaving him after everything he had dealt with the last few days. Ginny took a tentative step forward to look at Hermione, whose face was a blank canvas, revealing nothing.

"Hermione, I do think it's time you tell us who Rose's dad is."

Hermione continued to rock Rose, bouncing the child up and down in a frantic rhythm, shaking her head back and forth at the same time in a motion that matched the rocking. Ginny had never seen Hermione act so strangely, her friend looked…cornered. Ginny was torn between anger, frustration and sympathy for her long lost best friend.

Hermione blinked quickly then turned to where Harry stood next to her, pleading with her eyes for him to help her.

"Don't look to Harry, Hermione," Ginny said boldly, some of the rising anger coming out. "This doesn't concern him. Now, we're all glad you're back, but it's time you were honest with us. We're family, aren't we?"

Hermione stared back at Ginny, tears welling up in her eyes. Ginny watched as a few tears escaped and fell down Hermione's cheeks, and Hermione struggled to catch her breath.

"Oh, this is no use," Lavender said, throwing her hands up in the air. "I say we do the paternity charm on all of them, one by one. People are going to want to know who this child's father is!"

"People?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Yes, of course," Lavender said, exasperated. "People are already talking about it in Diagon Alley and the Ministry. I was just speaking to Padma about it this afternoon, and she couldn't believe…"

"No." Hermione's gasp was forced out of her, and her shout stalled all conversation around her. Ginny looked at her friend, who was slowly backing farther away from the group, shaking her head more vehemently now. Hermione clutched at Rose as if her life depended on it.

"You didn't, you haven't told people about her?"

"Obviously," Lavender said, rolling her eyes. "This is very good gossip you know."

Hermione began breathing heavily and looked like she might faint. Ginny was suddenly nervous and scared for her friend, and Harry next to her was beginning to look concerned as well. They both took a step toward Hermione.

"It's okay, I'm sure no one's going to bother you about it," Ginny said, giving Hermione a hopeful smile. Hermione just stared back at Ginny, horror written on her face. Ginny wondered what was bringing this about, why Hermione cared so much that people knew she had a child, why she wouldn't just tell them all who the father was…

All conversation was cut off by a knock at the door. Ginny looked toward the front door then looked back to Hermione, who had closed her eyes as if waiting for an execution squad. It was almost as if Hermione knew who the source of the knock was.

"I'll get it," Mum said skeptically, walking toward the entry as if not sure what she would find on the other side. The door was swung open to reveal two very authoritative looking men, each wearing a badge denoting them as members of the Ministry.

In an instant, Hermione's eyes snapped back open and she thrust Rose into Ginny's arms. Hermione's gaze blazed with intensity as she told Ginny, "Hide her. Now."

Ginny didn't have time to think, she only reacted. She didn't understand what was going on and she had a million questions that needed answering. But that look in Hermione's eyes, well, she'd never seen anything like it. Pure trust and instinct took over. Hermione needed this child hidden, and whatever else she was unsure of, Ginny knew she would always be on Hermione's side in a fight.

Ginny flew down the stairs leading to the basement. Throwing open the basement door, she rushed down, lighting her wand as she went so she could make sense of the darkness. She conjured a thick blanket and laid it on the floor, placing Rose on top of the blanket. She began placing as many protective charms as she could think of the guard the child, lit some more lights, then flew back to the basement door. Securing it with three strong locking charms, Ginny raced back into the living room just in time to see the two Ministry officials placing Hermione in handcuffs.

"This doesn't make any sense," Harry argued with the taller of the two officials. "Daggenham, this is my friend, I've brought her here. You have no right!"

"We have every right," Daggenham said, tapping a scroll of paper. "I mean no offense, but this is no longer under your jurisdiction. First, we have reports that one of our generals has had a mind alteration, a strong one at that, just before he's set to go out on a case to find Shraxen and Willigsbee…"

"And then, we learn the person responsible for it is concealing another magical witch, unregistered with the Ministry," Daggenham's partner continued. "We have no record of this child. Why is she hiding her? It's all very suspicious."

"Yes, I agree the circumstances look bad, but this can all be explained," Harry argued, helplessly. He stood in between the officials and a handcuffed Hermione.

"Finally," Daggenham said, "we've just received a report that someone has entered past the Weasley wards, someone who we don't have on record as authorized to pass."

"Yes," Harry said. "But that's because…"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted. "It's all right. I'll go."

The Weasley family looked at her sharply, stunned at her statement. Ron looked pained, his hands constantly twitching as if he might at any moment begin throwing hexes. He looked like he wanted to throw himself in front of Hermione, something Lavender seemed to be noticing as she eyed Ron suspiciously.

"Can I just have a moment?" Hermione asked the officials. "To say goodbye?"

The men nodded and walked toward the front door. Hermione turned to Ginny and walked closer, Harry following behind her until he stood next to Ginny. Hermione addressed them both.

"You're…the two of you…" Hermione took a breath. "You're both listed as Rose's godparents on the birth certificate. If anything happens…you must…You have to protect her."

Hermione's eyes shifted quickly between Harry and Ginny's, an unmistakable intensity there that Ginny had only seen before on her own Mum's face. Hermione was genuinely afraid for Rose's life. Ginny and Harry both nodded, then Hermione walked back toward the Ministry officials and was escorted out of the burrow.

There was quiet throughout the house for a few long seconds, and then a crashing noise as Ron slammed a glass onto the floor.

"Will you please quit breaking things?" Harry fumed. Ron glared back at him.

"What are we doing?" Ron asked, an intent expression on his face letting everyone know that action would be taken, now. Harry nodded in response and ran a hand through his hair.

"We'll go to the Ministry head of arrests now and figure out exactly what they're charging her with. Then we find her holding cell and speak with the officers there, try and determine how long they'll keep her. Ron, this is…it'll probably go to trial."

"And what if she's found guilty?" Ginny asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Harry looked at her, pain in his eyes. And fear.

"What they accused her of, it sounds like charges of terrorism, Gin," Harry said, quietly. "This could end with Azkaban."

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth and Mum gasped. Fleur took a heavy seat on a nearby chair and Dad put his hands in his head.

"That's not happening," Ron said, determined. He picked up his wand and strode briskly toward the fireplace, throwing in some floo powder and calling out in a strong voice, "Ministry of Magic." At the same time, Ron and Harry walked into the green flames, for a moment looking once again like young boys out to save the world, and then they were gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, this chapter's going to bring another "Huh?" moment. But the next two chapters will start answering a lot of questions, I promise! Thanks for reading and responding!**

Ron banged his head on the metal bar behind him, the clanking sound and the pain it inflicted on his skull a welcome distraction. He had never been in this part of the Ministry before. His business usually found him in the questioning rooms they brought prisoners to early on or in the court rooms where it was all decided afterward. Ron had been sitting on the floor just outside the bars of that cell for about an hour now, waiting for Harry to return with something, any information he could gather.

Ron banged his head a second time for good measure.

Turning over his shoulder, he spied Hermione sleeping soundly on a cot in her cell. They'd hit her with a sleeping charm after they'd brought her in, the front secretary had told him. Apparently, she'd become frightened and started screaming and lashing out, and the guards didn't know what else to do. Ron shuttered, thinking about Hermione in that state. He'd never seen her so scared as he had these past few hours, even back at the burrow when they were just eating dinner. She seemed so…guarded. Like something was coming for her. What it was, Ron couldn't fathom. But he knew he wasn't moving from that spot until someone gave him some answers.

Behind him, Hermione began stirring in her bed. It sounded like she was moaning and then he heard whimpers. Ron reckoned she was having a bad dream. He stood to look at her and watched as creases appeared on her forehead. She began mumbling something in her sleep.

"Nooo," she said quietly. "No, please…Ron."

_Ron?_ She'd said his name, and not in a good way. Ron pointed his wand at her, chanting a calming spell and watched as the magic hit her, easing away the furrow in her brow as if Ron himself had caressed her. Satisfied, Ron smiled slightly, happy to have provided at least a little comfort. Remembering something, he dug in his pocket and retrieved a small stuffed bunny. Rose had dropped in when Ginny had snatched her down to the basement, and Ron had bent to pick it up. He'd meant to hand it to Ginny but she was gone too quickly, and Ron had pocketed it instead. He wasn't sure why.

Now, he floated the small toy through the air using his wand, carefully guiding it until it landed just on top of Hermione's left arm. Almost instinctively, Hermione turned in her sleep to cradle the bunny, moving her face in close to its ears and inhaling deeply.

Hermione looked so peaceful, it was almost easy to forget the turmoil she and everyone around her was currently in. During the time between Hermione being taken from the burrow and Ron and Harry finding her cell after much arguing with several Ministry heads, Hermione had been scanned, treated and admitted into the holding ward. Upon arrival, one of the younger officers on duty, a guy Harry and Ron had trained themselves, informed them of a peculiarity they'd found during scanning.

Officer Smidgehorn, aware about the element of the unknown child in the case, informed Ron and Harry that a maternity charm had been given to Hermione. The charm told the attendants on duty that Hermione had never given birth to any child before, that there was no way she could have borne Rose.

Ron was at once baffled and furious. Whatever this meant, whatever it was, it would only give the Ministry more ammunition against Hermione. She was looking more suspect by the moment. And as each moment passed by, Ron found himself caring less and less. She could lie to him all she wanted, rip his heart out and walk on it as often as she liked, so long as she was alive and healthy and he could get her out of this godforsaken cell.

"Hey." Ron turned quickly with his wand raised, realizing immediately that it was only Harry.

"What'd you find out?" Ron asked urgently, skipping to the point. Harry shook his head.

"They won't let her go until a formal trial," Harry said, holding up a hand to keep an exasperated Ron from interrupting. "Fortunately, I've used my pull to get that moved to tomorrow morning."

"And that's good, right?"

"Well, it's good if they let her off, she'll be out of here by tomorrow afternoon, but…"

"What is it?"

"If they find her guilty, she'll be moved to Azkaban…tomorrow."

Ron turned from Harry at that, throwing two hands into his hair and rubbing vigorously. This was a nightmare, the blood in his body was screaming at him to start throwing a fit, start yelling, start shouting hexes until somebody came to their senses and let Hermione go.

"Ron, Ron," Harry whispered, moving closer to his friend. "We just have to make sure that doesn't happen. I did some talking, and I've gotten Trottle assigned to this. He'll be presiding over tomorrow, and you know we have a good relationship with him."

Ron nodded.

"We'll all be there, ready to step in if things get…out of hand"

"Right." Ron took a long pause, as if making his mind up about something. "Harry, I won't let them take her."

"I know, Ron," Harry said with a sigh. "I won't either."

The two men nodded, both agreeing and understanding the other with no further explanation needed. Harry had no confusion over the depth of Ron's feelings for Hermione, however angry with her he may be at the moment, and Ron certainly knew Harry looked on Hermione as a real sister. No one would harm her if they were nearby.

"There's more," Harry said quietly. Ron nodded for him to go on.

"They think this might have something to do with Shraxen and Willigsbee, they think Hermione might be in cahoots with them."

"What? That's insane."

"I know, but look at the evidence. This all began just before you and I were about to start a full scale mission to track them down. And tonight, Ministry got word the two of them have been spotted in Diagon Alley. The last we heard of them they were in Wales. They're getting closer."

Ron shuddered, imagining what the two of them could do if they got anywhere near the Ministry or the auror department. Jefferson Shraxen and Damius Willigsbee were two of the most wanted death eaters from Voldemort's time. Following the war, account after account mounted concerning their involvement in countless tortures and murders, and they'd been part of more than one conspiracy to bring down both Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic on several occasions. The night they'd cornered Ron one year ago, all by himself coming home from a pub in the dark, it had been as if they were waiting for him, like they'd known just where he'd be.

_Tell us where they are_, Shraxen had hissed, his foot on Ron's throat.

_Who?_ Ron had croaked out.

_Your family_, Willigsbee had whispered maniacally.

They'd tried without success to get information out of Ron, throwing the Cruciatus Curse at him so many times he'd lost count. Thank goodness for his auror training, or he might have succumbed. Finally, the two left him, like they'd lost interest. Before flying off, Shraxen had inspected Ron's left hand, dropped it, whispered to his partner _It's not time_, then disappeared. Ron didn't come to for another twenty-seven hours.

"Harry," Ron said now. "What was the nature of that mission going to be? What were we going after?"

"I can't tell you much, but the Ministry believes some of the death eaters got their hands on a particular prophecy some time ago, before the Department of Mysteries was destroyed. They think Shraxen and Willigsbee are looking for something related to that prophecy, to fulfill one of Voldemort's last, dark plans."

"Do you know what the prophecy was?"

"I know some of it," Harry said, looking at Ron with weary eyes. "Not many people do, the fewer the better. Remember, a prophecy only has as much power as you give it."

"But obviously this one's important, if the Ministry's making such a fuss over it, and if they're bringing Hermione in on charges in connection to it."

Harry nodded, looking over his shoulder to stare at Hermione, then turning his gaze back at Ron.

"The best thing to do right now is get some sleep," Harry said finally.

"I'm not leaving."

"No," Harry said, "I didn't figure you would."

Harry turned to go as Ron settled back down on the floor outside the bars. Ron watched Harry walk toward the exit, before his friend stopped and looked back at him with one curious glance. Whatever was on Harry's mind, Ron figured he could use a calming spell as well.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Here's a shorter chapter to get us to the next one. Thanks for reading and responding! **_

Hermione swung her legs over the cot bed, stretching her limbs and trying to rub a knot out of her neck. The bed had been stiff, causing her muscles to ache this morning, but somehow she felt rested. It was as if she'd slept better than she had in years, calmed somehow by an outside presence. She looked down then at the stuffed bunny in her hand. Funny, she didn't remembering bringing it the previous night.

Suddenly, she remembered everything; the questions, the cell, leaving Rose behind. At the thought of Rose her head dropped to her knees and she wrapped her arms around her legs, ready to give in to a good cry.

"Hermione Granger?" a guard called. "You have guests."

The barred door swung open then and in walked Harry and Ginny, Arthur and Molly, and Ron and Lavender. Hermione suppressed a groan at the sight of Lavender, though she supposed the girl would be the least of her worries that day. Ginny sat down next to Hermione on the cot and handed her a fresh cup of tea, and Hermione smiled in thanks.

"What's going to happen?" Hermione asked as Harry sat on a bench across from her.

"We're going into the formal trial soon. It'll be tough, but I know the presiding head. He should be fair."

Hermione nodded, noticing Harry looked like he hadn't slept in days. They all did actually, except maybe Lavender.

"Where's…"

"Rose is at home with Bill and Fleur," Ginny answered quickly, before Hermione could finish her question. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, and then eyed the group around her. She knew the tests they'd performed on her last night had something to do with Rose, but she wasn't sure how much was revealed.

"Hermione, we know," Harry said. Hermione's eyes darted up to his then, and she knew they were both thinking about the same thing.

"Yes, dear, they say there's something about Rose," Molly said delicately. "That perhaps you're not her mother."

Hermione took her time looking at each of them carefully, like a caged animal at a zoo might eye the intruders watching it from outside the glass. She shook her head softly no, telling them she wouldn't speak on the subject.

"Great, well I'm glad we got that all cleared up," Lavender said sarcastically. "You know, we are trying to help you Hermione."

"I can take care of myself, thanks." Hermione pulled her knees closer as she said it, knowing she was doing a poor job of convincing anyone of that fact. But she wouldn't take pity, least of all from Lavender Brown. She was Hermione Granger, for goodness sake. She helped kill Voldemort, she was the cleverest witch of her age. She'd lived three years with a burning secret and a mission that would have seen Lav-Lav collapse after one day. She could at least handle this.

"Mr. Ron," a high pitched male voice squeaked. Hermione looked up to see one of the officers who'd checked her in passing by her cell.

"Hiya Smidgehorn," Ron said distractedly.

"You know Mr. Ron, if you want to sleep here again, you just let me know," Smidgehorn continued. "I can at least get you a blanket and pillow, you must have been freezing sleeping on the floor like that."

"That won't be necessary Smidgehorn, thanks."

Hermione looked at Ron, confused. He had slept here? Outside her cell? All night? Ron was looking resolutely at the floor, the tips of his ears turning telltale red and his arms crossed tightly against his chest.

"You spent the night here?" Lavender said, half whisper and half hiss.

"Can we talk about this later?" Ron begged quietly. "In private?"

Lavender huffed and turned to leave the cell.

"I'll be in the trial room," she said loudly. "I'm sure you'll all be joining me in there soon." She stared pointedly at Ron as she turned on one heel and exited.

"The Wizengamot won't be so tough after her, huh?"

"Ginny," Ron shot back, "please?"

"What?" Ginny asked innocently. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

The group began readying themselves to leave as well. Molly and Arthur both hugged Hermione and told her to keep her chin up. Ginny embraced her tightly and whispered in her ear that they would all be out there for her, then left herself. Hermione turned finally to Ron and Harry, not sure what to say to them.

"It will be all right Hermione," Harry said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Do you believe me?"

Hermione nodded as Harry hugged her, then she whispered in his ear.

"Remember…"

"I remember, protect Rose," Harry replied, letting her go. "But you've got to stop being so cryptic."

Harry left then with one backward glance at Hermione and Ron, left by themselves in the cell. It was the first time in three years they'd been alone together.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Hermione."

Hermione looked in his eyes and held her breath. His stare was so earnest, so sincere. She knew he meant it, and it killed her.

Ron made a move as if he were going to embrace her then thought better of it, instead reaching out to grasp one of her hands in his own. He caressed her fingers slowly, back and forth. It was the first time he'd touched her since she'd been back, and it was intoxicating. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to fling herself at him, wrap her arms around him and bury her head into his chest. She wanted to sob to him, beg him never to let her go, plead with him to do whatever it took to keep them together.

"Ron," she said instead, removing her fingers from his hand. "Leave me alone."


	12. Chapter 12

_**So, this part is full of dialogue, as it's an interrogation scene. I hope some things begin to seem clear. Within the next two chapters, all major questions should be answered. Thanks for reading!**_

Harry looked up from his seat in the stands as soon as the chamber doors opened. All the members of the Wizengamot and Mr. Trottle were already seated in the top space, and the only one left to enter was Hermione. Sure enough, there she was, being led in by a guard and looking defiant. Her chin stuck up in the air and he was reminded of a bossy little eleven-year-old. Still, all her strength aside, Harry saw fear in her eyes.

Hermione was brought to the center podium, where the guard took out a binding device and locked her hands to the podium.

"Is that really necessary?" Ginny huffed from his left. To his right, Ron stood tall and unflinching, his hands gripping the low guard rail in front of them as if he might rip it off.

"Please state your name for the record," Mr. Trottle called out loudly.

"Hermione Granger," she responded in a clear voice. The sound was small to Harry and he thought not for the first time that day how young she still was, and how much she had faced so far.

"Do you understand the charges brought against you?"

"No, I most certainly do not," Hermione responded, indignant. Mr. Trottle looked taken aback. He wasn't used to trouble this early in.

"What is the source of your confusion, miss?"

"There are no grounds for my holding here," Hermione replied, her chin still out. "There's no proof to anything I've been accused of, and I've not even been afforded council in order to defend myself."

"If you've done nothing wrong," Mr. Trottle said. "Why would you need council?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the man, as if he'd just asked a very idiotic question.

"I need council, sir, to properly defend myself against these untrue allegations. I've not been part of the magical world for some time and I haven't been given the proper materials regarding any new legislation."

"Why don't we just proceed with the questioning, and if we come to a bit you don't understand we'll see if I can't explain it to you."

Harry snorted. From the looks Hermione was throwing the Wizengamot, he had a feeling they'd be the ones get an explaining-to shortly.

"I understand you wiped the memory of one Ronald Weasley on 3 June, 1998. Is that correct?"

"No, that is not correct." Mr. Trottle looked surprised. "I did not wipe his complete memory, I removed certain details and used a fidelius charm to keep aspects of my personal life a secret."

"Yes, and can you tell me precisely why you did this?"

"I was an overwhelmed young girl, ill equipped to face challenges before me," Hermione said crisp and clearly, almost as if it were a practiced speech. "It was an immature decision, but I assure you not one motivated by malice."

"It's all right, she's doing okay," Ron whispered, looking almost hopeful, even though Hermione's words were basically describing how she had run away from him. Harry shook his head no at his friend, he didn't think they were out of the woods just yet.

"And can you tell me the nature of your relationship with the young child known as Rose?"

"I'm her mother." Hermione's tone was final, as if not willing to speak further on the subject.

"Yes, but our tests show that not to be the case."

"I'm her mother," Hermione reiterated. "Your tests are wrong."

"If that's so, why didn't you have her accounted for in the national wizarding registry upon her birth?" Trottle looked triumphant here, thinking he'd caught her in a corner she couldn't escape from.

"My daughter's father is a muggle and I've lived as a muggle for three years, with no intention of returning to magic," Hermione said slowly, her face set. Ron let out a breath and looked down at his hands.

"My child has displayed no aptitude for magic whatsoever," Hermione continued. "For all intents and purposes, she is a muggle."

Trottle paused here, studying his gavel as if taking in all the facts he'd just heard. He gave Hermione a long, hard look, then leaned forward to speak again.

"It's a very nice story, Miss Granger, but unfortunately I'm not buying into it." Trottle motioned toward a man in the back and the officer stepped forward, carrying a small bottle on a silver tray. Harry watched Hermione study the tray, and could tell the exact moment she realized what was in that bottle.

"Harry," Ginny said urgently, pulling on his sleeve. "They won't…they couldn't."

Harry looked down as the man with the bottle got closer to Hermione. Next to him, Ron shifted, moving his hand closer to where his wand rested in his pocket.

"You can't use veritaserum on me," Hermione said in a grave voice.

"Oh but I can," Trottle replied merrily. "As you mentioned, you're not up to date on wizard law. Following the Great War, we enacted some special regulations for those thought to be co-conspirators to death eaters."

"We should have got Kingsley involved," Harry said quickly to the group around him. "I didn't realize how serious it had gotten."

Harry inwardly cursed himself. He should have been prepared for this. But he'd had no idea the amount of trouble Hermione was in. He knew anyone suspected of working with Shraxen and Willigsbee had been placed under extreme suspicion, true. But obviously Hermione had nothing to do with them, surely anyone could see that.

The pair had been under watch since the Ministry caught wind that they'd confiscated a certain Prophecy 472, one of the last know prophecies in existence. The prophecy spoke of a trio, and at first the investigating council believed it to regard Harry, Ron and some third, unidentified person. Of course, that was during the time when no one remembered Hermione existed. They would have certainly assumed it regarded her as well if anyone had remembered. Except even that wouldn't have made sense, as further research into the writing of the prophecy revealed the third party to be a child of some sort…

Harry froze, every nerve in his body standing on end.

"They can't give that to her." But it was too late. Harry watched in horror as a struggling Hermione was forcibly made to drink three drops of the potent veritaserum. Harry could almost feel the blood drain from his face. Hermione choked several times and gripped the podium in front of her, her head hung down.

"Now," Trottle said smugly. "Why don't we try this again."

Hermione glared back at him, her mouth clamped shut, as if she could forcibly will the words to stay inside her.

"The child we have been speaking of, what is her name?"

Hermione paused only half a second before responding, "Rose Weasley."

Hermione closed her eyes as several members of the public, who knew the name Weasley so well, gasped throughout the room.

"Is she a muggle?"

Hermione clearly struggled to keep her mouth closed, before blurting out "No."

Trottle looked pleased, settling himself farther back in his chair to get comfortable.

"Did you give birth to her?"

Hermione's eyes closed even tighter and her knuckles turned white on the podium as she struggled to stay quiet.

"No," she gasped finally, breathing hard from the exertion. Trottle looked intrigued and sat forward once more.

"So you've kidnapped her?"

"No, no I haven't, I swear," Hermione said desperately. Trottle looked on Hermione suspiciously, then his face settled in a more sinister expression.

"What do you know of two death eaters by the names of Jefferson Shraxen and Damius Willigsbee?"

"Not, not much," Hermione said, gulping in air now that she could speak on a different subject. "They were two followers of Tom Riddle, they performed heinous crimes, and they haven't been caught to date."

"Indeed. And do you know anything about Prophecy 472?"

"I've heard of it," Hermione said, almost whispering.

"What's Prophecy 472?" Ginny asked Harry, worry across her face. Harry just shook his head and looked back to Hermione.

"That's interesting, Miss Granger," Trottle continued. "Very few have heard of this particular prophecy before. Is it possible this has anything to do with your little obliviating charm?"

"Yes." Hermione's answer was firm, though she immediately looked down after replying. Trottle leaned down low from his perch, clearly readying himself for the kill. He paused for dramatic flourish, making sure all eyes in the room were watching. He needn't have bothered, none of the spectators dared move an inch as they looked on in rapt attention.

"Why exactly did you obliviate Mr. Weasley?" Trottle asked finally.

Ron leaned forward next to Harry, craning his neck out to hear better. In fact, Harry could sense four sets of Weasley eyes now more focused following that question. Hermione struggled longer this time, trying to keep the words down. After three whole seconds, she replied, "I was told to."

"By who, Miss Granger?"

Hermione fought this time harder than the last, placing her forehead to the podium, looking as if she were trying to bite her tongue off rather than speak.

"Harry Potter," she called out at last, before falling to her knees. Her body shook from the experience and her hands and arms were still propped above her, cuffed to the top of the podium. There was a sudden spark of conversation throughout the room as the crowd reacted to the salacious news. Somewhere behind him, Harry heard Lavender remark, "I can't believe Harry did that!" Harry turned quickly to Ron, who looked like he was considering whether or not to punch him. Harry shook his head viciously no, trying to convey that he hadn't done this awful thing. Of course he hadn't, what would ever make him do such a, he would never betray…

"Oh my God," Harry said suddenly, quietly looking to Ron and Ginny. "I know what she's done."

"Well then do something about it!" Ron said loudly, his voice lost in the sea of commotion going on in the trial hall. Down below, Trottle banged his gavel to demand silence. The room dropped to a hush once more and whensatisfied he had his attention back, Trottle continued.

"Do you mean to tell me Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, told you to obliviate and tamper with the mind of his dearest friend?"

"Yes," Hermione said, still on her knees.

"And what would possess him to do such a thing?"

"It was important," Hermione replied, looking at Trottle now.

"Why?"

"Something bad would have happened."

Harry inwardly cheered, realizing Hermione was coming up with circular answers, replies that were technically true but didn't give anything away. Not even Hermione would be able to keep that forever, though.

"Yes, obviously," Trottle shouted, getting frustrated. "And what bad thing would have happened?"

Hermione flushed for a second, shoving her head far down to rest on her knees, before her head sprang up again, tears finally escaping her eyes.

"Someone would have died!" she shouted back at last. She shook back and forth while on her knees, trying to claw her way out of the bonds on her wrists. Finding no escape there she frantically searched the crowd, turning her face up to look for one person.

"Harry!" she sobbed miserably.

Harry was out of his seat in an instant. He hopped over the railing as if it were a low fence, then jumped over a second railing under that. Landing with both feet securely on the ground of the main floor, he rushed to the center podium and gathered Hermione up in his arms. Her body wracked with sobs and she buried her face in his neck.

"Potter, what is the meaning of this?" Mr. Trottle asked, banging his gavel several more times to regain order. Harry pulled Hermione away from him to look at her, great big tear tracks already taking shape on her cheeks and her whole face was red.

"Help me," she whispered quietly enough for only him to hear. He nodded in understanding and turned to the Wizengamot.

"Mr. Trottle, I know this is unorthodox, but this woman is my friend. This whole trial began when I initiated a mission to track her down. Considering my record with the department and the fact we've already given her veritaserum and know she can't lie, would you consider letting me complete the questioning?"

Trottle raised a skeptical eyebrow at Harry, looking unconvinced.

"Please sir," Harry said. "I think I can get the information we need out of her."

Trottle waved his hand in response, giving Harry the all clear to continue. Harry looked back at Hermione who was still trembling on the ground. He pointed a wand in her direction, conjuring up a chair.

"Can we get this removed, please?" he called out loudly, indicating the chain still around his friend's wrists. As he helped Hermione into the chair a guard came near and removed the cuff. Hermione rubbed her wrists and smiled at Harry appreciatively.

"It'll be okay," he whispered in her ear. She nodded in response, finally ready to trust him. She had no other options.

"Hermione," Harry said loudly so the whole room could hear him. "Is Rose Weasley your child?"

"Yes," Hermione replied strongly.

"Are you in cahoots with Shraxen and Willigsbee?"

"No," Hermione replied, louder this time.

"Did I ask you to obliviate Ron Weasley so that he might be harmed?"

"No."

"Would it be dangerous to reveal any more at this time?"

"Yes."

"Would it, in fact, put into danger those that you are trying so desperately to protect?"

"Yes," Hermione said with a sob, closing her eyes as she spoke and placing fingers to her forehead. Harry turned to look at her as he asked his next question.

"Hermione, would you ever do a thing to harm any member of the Weasley family?"

Hermione looked back at him, tears slowly falling down her face, and said passionately, "No."

Harry nodded at her and gave a terse smile, trying to convey to her that this was the end, she no longer needed to carry this alone. Turning slowly back to the Wizengamot, he addressed them once more.

"Mr. Trottle, obviously it would be dangerous to continue questioning at this time, the veritaserum doesn't lie. Seeing as how this deals with the Shraxen and Willigsbee case, a case I am currently heading, and taking into account my relationship with the accused, I ask you to release her to my care until further note."

Trottle paused with his gavel in the air, trying to consider the gravity of the situation. Finally, he let the gavel drop, nodding at Harry to take his friend away.

"I'll want a full update in a few days' time, Potter," he said as he gathered his things and released the rest of the Wizengamot. "Don't forget."

Harry watched as the officials left and the spectators bustled out the exits. He walked over to Hermione and looped one arm through hers, helping her stand.

"What now?" she asked, worried.

"We go home to the burrow," he said tersely. "We have a lot to discuss."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Hi all! I'm working to get this finished. We have a big reveal here, and then another one in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**_

Hermione sat at the head of the long kitchen table in the burrow. She tapped her fingers against her water glass, feeling the weight of twelve pairs of eyes on her. On the floor next to her, Rose and Victoire played nicely. Hermione had smothered her child with affection upon returning, but it was clear now the only action the Weasley family would allow of her was to talk. They wanted answers.

Hermione gazed down the room. Ron sat directly across from her at the other end of the large table. Lavender was to his right, looking annoyed. Ginny sat to Ron's left, sporadically patting her brother on the shoulder to calm him. Next to Ginny was Harry, who looked like he was trying to avoid Ron's gaze all together. Ron was glaring at Harry like he might kill him.

The rest of the seats were filled: Arthur and Molly, Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, Percy and Audrey. No Weasley had stayed home from this show. Except, of course, for Charlie.

Just then, the front door banged open and Charlie Weasley walked in.

"What the bloody hell is going in?" he asked, exasperated. He walked to the table and took the last empty seat, looking disheveled and travel worn, as if he had left whatever he was doing in a rush. "I got Mum's owl. We've got a new niece?"

All eyes flew back to Hermione, waiting for her to confirm or deny. Which was preposterous. They all heard the confession, Hermione wouldn't have been able to lie under veritaserum. And they had all seen Rose pass the Weasley wards. Obviously, there was no use denying it any longer. All she could do was share as little as possible and try to protect what information she could.

"Yes," Hermione said. "This is my daughter, and she is a Weasley."

Charlie looked gobsmacked, peering down at the small redhead playing on the floor.

"Blimey, who's the dad?"

All the sets of eyes, thirteen now, turned back to Hermione once more. And how was she supposed to answer this? It's not like any of it made sense. Whatever name she said, someone would be in trouble. Hermione decided the best thing for it was to be as honest as she could.

"I understand this has all been very confusing." Hermione paused as Lavender gave a snort. "And I know you all want to know what's going on. But I can't tell you. You heard me say that under the veritaserum. Every word I utter places more and more danger on the situation."

Hermione nodded, satisfied. That should be the end of it, shouldn't it? They should all be able to trust her. Couldn't they see what this was doing to her?

"That is not good enough."

All eyes flew to Ron at his declaration. Ron sat there, still glaring at Harry, then turned his attention to Hermione. He looked thoroughly pissed off.

"Now, I feel like I've been pretty levelheaded throughout this whole ordeal," Ron said, stabbing the table with his finger. Ginny said a sarcastic, "Right," but was silenced with a look from Ron, who continued.

"Everyone here wants you to answer to them Hermione. A lot of people in this room are hurt and frustrated by what's gone on," Ron said, standing slowly and leaning forward as he spoke.

"But I want you to understand the hurt and frustration you have caused me. Me," Ron said, slamming his fist against his chest. "You have done this to _me_, and you have come back here with a child and you won't tell us who's it is, and now I find out all of this has happened because my best mate," Ron said, indicating Harry, "was in on it. And so before we go any farther, before anyone else gets a word in, I expect an explanation out of you. You owe _me _an explanation."

He said the last bit quietly, but with plenty of force. Hermione felt the air pulled out of her as Ron's eyes drilled into her, pinning her to her seat. She could feel the tears welling up, looking at the pain and anger written on Ron's face.

"I didn't want to be with you, Ron," Hermione said finally, looking straight in his eyes.

"Fine," he said, slowly. "That bit seems a bit obvious. It wasn't a coincidence Riddle chose that image of you and Harry to taunt me with. I've always known I had no chance with you, I don't need convincing of it."

Hermione breathed heavily, her gaze still locked with Ron's. She wanted to scream, to tell him to never say such awful things again. How could he think it? Ron was good enough, he was better than anyone.

"I couldn't stand the sight of you any longer," Hermione said, her voice cold and her stare blank. "Is that enough of an explanation for you?"

Hermione continued to stare at Ron, silently begging him to stop looking at her like that. He looked almost…defeated. Hermione had crushed him. But, of course, that had been the plan all along.

"How do you know about Prophecy 472?"

Hermione turned to Harry at his sudden question, gaping at him, willing him to let it go.

"It's not your turn for questions, Potter," Ron said menacingly.

"Oh come off it," Harry said in frustration. "I didn't do a thing to you."

Hermione's mind was in a whirl. How to explain her knowledge of the prophecy? It was a prophecy she would instantly forget if she could, yet it had become the driving force in her life.

"I…I read about it."

"Nope," Harry replied. "Never been reported. In fact, there are precisely three people on this planet who know the full contents of it."

The rest of the family watched Harry closely now, clearly intrigued.

"What's it about Harry?" Ginny asked urgently. "Please?"

Harry surveyed the room, obviously weighing whether or not he should say more. Hermione couldn't believe he would even consider it.

"Harry, don't," she begged. "The more people who know, the more power it has. You know how it works."

"Yes, I do know how it works," Harry said angrily. "I want to know how _you_ know how it works."

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening. She'd spent three years protecting something, and in just three days Harry was ready to give it up. She was livid, so angry with him. He had been the one to start all of this, even if he didn't know it, and now he was causing more problems for her.

"Harry," Ron said, the one word an insistent plea.

"Harry," Hermione echoed, her voice just as forceful as Ron's.

Harry looked between his two friends, not sure which to let down. In the end, he knew they needed all the information possible to work this thing out, and so he took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Prophecy 472 was taken from the department of mysteries before it was destroyed in 1996. It didn't take long for the Ministry to discover it was the work of death eaters, and they assumed the prophecy had made its way into the hands of Riddle. After the department was destroyed, the Ministry became intent on discovering the contents of that one prophecy, as for all intents and purposes, it was the last one known on Earth. Fortunately, they had a registry on hand and were able to find the original source of the prediction…"

"Who was it?" Lavender asked, leaning in as if listening to a ghost story.

"Trelawney. Of course, her predictions are shaky at best, but we know from experience she's been dead on before." Harry paused to grimace. "They were able to put her into a trance and gather the lost information."

"What did it say?" Ginny urged. Ron's face was tense, his brow low over his eyes, watching Harry.

"It spoke of a trio," Harry said, scanning the various faces watching him. "A trio whose combined magical power would be so great, no dark magic could ever defeat it."

"You, Ron and Hermione then?" Percy asked, his quick mind trying to figure it all out. Harry shook his head.

"No. The Ministry did think at first it was a trio of three adults, but the more the prophecy was explored they realized it was speaking about…a family. The prophecy talked about the lasting effects, the offspring. This family would be the start of generations of powerful witches and wizards, creating a line of good magic that would be nearly unstoppable."

"So…the trio?" Bill asked.

"Man, woman and child," Harry answered.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thanks again for the responses! Enjoy!**_

The room was silent, everyone taking in the knowledge Harry had just shared. More than one set of eyes turned to look at Rose on the floor, and Hermione instinctively took two steps to her right, placing herself in front of her child. Her entire body was trembling.

Molly got up from the table to nervously start pouring glasses of pumpkin juice. She was clearly uneasy with the way this story was going. Fleur got up to help as the rest of the group struggled to make sense of everything.

"Harry, you said three people knew the full contents," Arthur said, finally breaking the silence. "You, and who else?"

"Jefferson Shraxen and Damius Willigsbee."

There were several gasps amongst the group, and Molly quickly passed out glasses, needing something to do with her hands. Harry stood to finish his story.

"They're out to stop this family from ever being formed, to finish one of Riddle's last plots. There was a time the Ministry thought the prophecy might pertain to me, and my family," Harry said, reaching for Ginny's hand. "But then, a year ago…"

"They went after Ron," Ginny finished. She looked from Harry to Ron, whose face was a dark mask.

"Please, please can we stop now?" Hermione begged quietly. There were tear marks on her face and she still stood firmly in front of Rose. No one paid her any attention.

"We need to get the Order in on this, get some protection!" Charlie said loudly.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "The more people who hear this, the worse it will get. It's like we're compelling the prophecy to be true, every time we retell it."

"Yes, so we should all just stop talking!" Hermione shouted. "Right now!"

"I agree with Hermione," Molly said, fear on her face. Everyone was quiet for a moment, each afraid to speak. Molly took several nervous gulps from her pumpkin juice glass.

"This doesn't make any sense," Lavender said finally, looking perturbed. "Ron doesn't even have a family!"

"Yet," Harry answered. "Ron doesn't have a family, yet."

Lavender thought on this, mulling over the information she had heard and considering the possibilities. Ron didn't have a family, yet. But one day he would. He'd have a baby and a wife and…Suddenly, she began clapping.

"Oh, Won-Won, I knew you would propose soon!" She threw her arms around Ron and began hopping up and down. Ron looked bewildered, confused as to how they had gotten to that point. Ginny rolled her eyes with an exclaim of "Oh honestly," as Hermione bent down to scoop up Rose and slowly began moving backward.

"Lavender, what are you so excited about?" Ginny asked with a sigh. "Even if this prophecy were talking about you and Ron, it would now mean you were in mortal peril."

"Yes, but Won-Won would protect me," she replied, beaming up at Ron and clinging to his arm. "Ron would never let anything happen to the woman he loves, he would die first."

Hermione gave a squeak and the group turned sharply to look at her, realizing now Hermione had been slowly retreating the entire time. She was almost to the back door.

"Right," Hermione said. "S-so like Harry told us, Ron doesn't have a family yet. And prophecies only work if you let them. It-it's just like with Harry and Voldemort…If either had walked away, it would have meant nothing. I think we should all just walk away now."

Hermione had continued to move throughout her speech and her back was now pressed against the door. She reached behind her, still holding Rose, searching for the doorknob. She needed to escape, immediately. She would run if she had to.

"Wait," Ron said suddenly. He blinked several times as if just waking up. He stared evenly at Hermione. "We still don't know how you had knowledge of any of this."

Hermione let out a frustrated growl, suddenly very fed up.

"Does it matter, Ronald? Honestly, do you have to be hit over the head with it?" Hermione took four long steps toward him, punctuating her words with one arm, the other holding Rose tightly to her chest. "Something bad is happening Ronald! And you want to sit down for a chat?"

Ron fumed, raising himself up so that he looked several inches taller. He loomed over Hermione, invisible smoke coming out of his ears. He had had enough.

"Should we separate them?" Ginny whispered.

"No," Harry whispered back. "This is good. This they know how to do."

"Well if I'm so thick," Ron yelled. "Why don't you just leave? See if I care! No one's stopping you!"

"I am leaving, and I am never coming back!"

The two stood there for a moment, each red in the face, inches apart. Finally, a look settled over Hermione's face, almost as if she were coming to her senses.

"You leave first," she said forcefully.

"Bloody likely," Ron snorted. "This is my house. You leave!"

Hermione reeled up, making herself as big as possible, spurred on my Ron's angry words.

"I'm warning you Ronald! You leave right this instant. Take your _fiancé_," Hermione put particular emphasis on the word, like she were spitting it out, "and go! You two need to get started making some great, powerful wizarding family! Just go!"

Hermione nearly shrieked the last syllable. Something in the way she said it made Ron pause and contemplate her now, as if seeing her for the first time in years.

"Fine," he said quietly. With that, he walked toward Lavender, grabbed her by the hand, and turned with a pop. The two apparated away.

Hermione sat stunned for a moment, as if surprised that he had finally, for once in his life, listened to her.

"Well this has been a lot of fun Hermione," George said from his seat at the table. "Let's make sure to do it more often."

Hermione gaped back at the Weasley's, some of them looking concerned and some looking almost…disappointed in her. There was nothing she could say to get herself out of this mess. And that was fine, her reputation wasn't the thing at stake here. She turned quickly, returning once more to the backdoor. Her hand fumbled with the knob, finding it magically locked. She turned briskly, about to demand someone unlock the door. Internally, she was praying helplessly for some sort of refuge, anything that could help her.

Then, the front door to the burrow kitchen swung open, a gust of wind flying through the house. There, in the open entryway, stood Albus Dumbledore.


	15. Chapter 15

_**It's all unraveling now! Please read and respond, thanks!**_

The gust of wind that had announced his presence took what seemed like forever to settle down, before the group could all finally get a good look at Professor Albus Dumbledore. It had been four years since any of them had seen him in the flesh, struck down as he was on that awful night in the astronomy tower. Still, somehow, there he was.

It was Harry who spoke first, breaking some imaginary spell of silence that had been placed on all of them.

"Professor?" Harry's voice cracked on the word. Dumbledore turned at the sound and smiled when he saw Harry, who rushed forward and embraced his old mentor. He looked suddenly younger somehow.

"Professor…you have no idea…I…" Harry trailed off, mumbling into Dumbledore's robes.

"I'm glad to see you too, Harry," Dumbledore replied warmly, patting the younger wizard on the back. "Let's move into the living room and talk, shall we?"

The family agreed and all members followed Dumbledore into the living room. Fleur settled Victoire in a playpen, handing her Harry's invisibility cloak to play with. Molly conjured up a tea tray and passed a cup to the professor. He perched his feet up cozily on an ottoman before the fire. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold object, a tiny hourglass spinning in its center.

"I'm sure this explains quite a bit, doesn't it?" He asked the group, all of which was looking intently at him.

"A time turner?" Arthur asked, reaching out a hand to examine it. Hermione quietly slinked to the back of the room, hoping to escape notice. "So, you've come from some time in the past then?"

Dumbledore nodded as the rest of the family settled in on couches and chairs.

"It seemed I was the safest that choice, seeing as how there's no danger of me sneaking up on myself here."

Harry moved to sit down himself, then jumped back up.

"Professor, there's something…I need to tell you," Harry rushed urgently. "In sixth year, you and I…"

Dumbledore hushed him with one hand.

"No, Harry, no. It's all right," Dumbledore said. "There are some things that even I shouldn't know."

Dumbledore settled back in his seat with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Resigned, Harry sat down as well, though he looked no less mollified.

"I'm sure you're all surprised to see me," Dumbledore said, at last addressing the group as a whole. "Though, I think one of our party is less surprised than the others."

Dumbledore's hand shot up then, casting a wave of magic that slammed the living room door closed. Hermione, who had just managed to quietly open it, looked back in shock.

"Not leaving us so soon, are you Miss Granger?"

"N-no," Hermione stuttered, "no sir."

Hermione stalled, wondering how she could outsmart the most powerful wizard of all time. Deciding she probably couldn't, she walked solemnly back to the center of the room. Dumbledore smiled in recognition, as if he had read her thoughts.

"That's good. And this," he said, indicating Rose on Hermione's hip, "is the child, I presume?"

Hermione nodded, wishing the floor would swallow her up.

"Do you know who asked me to come here, Hermione?"

"I could come up with a guess," she replied dryly. Dumbledore chuckled and nodded.

"He wants me to take Rose with me," he said quietly, looking only at Hermione.

"Where?"

"To another time and place, just for a spell, until it's over."

"But, but I can't let you," Hermione said desperately. "I have to look after her, I'm not supposed to let her out of my sight!"

Dumbledore watched her steadily, almost pityingly, like she wasn't understanding something important.

"I'm to take you as well, Hermione."

Hermione's mouth flew open at that, stunned and aghast at the same time. There was no possible way, nothing that would make her leave now. If both she and Rose left, there'd be no one else…he would automatically be the only one left…it would be like checkmate.

"I'm not going anywhere," Hermione replied, her voice low and harsh, biting out each word.

"He's given me strict orders…"

"I don't bloody care!" Hermione cut him off. "I'm not taking orders from him or you or anybody, do you hear me?"

The rest of the group was shocked into silence. Hermione was cursing and yelling at Albus Dumbledore. It was unheard of. Harry moved tentatively to stand in between Hermione and the great wizard, trying to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

"I can take you against your will, you know," Dumbledore said at last. Harry turned fiercely at this, amazed at the professor's words. His gaze was intense, not believing he might have to protect Hermione from someone he admired so greatly.

"Sir, I mean no disrespect," Harry said passionately. "But I can't let anyone, not even you, take Hermione against her will."

Hermione nodded behind Harry, not sure if it would be enough but glad to finally receive some support.

"An-and," Harry continued, finding it difficult to stand up to his mentor. "Exactly who is it trying to give orders to Hermione?"

Dumbledore placed his tea cup on a side table and looked straight at Hermione.

"Her husband," he said.

Molly put her hand over her heart at that and sat on the sofa, Arthur fanning a newspaper in her face. Ginny sat down slowly on one arm of the sofa, finally beginning to understand.

"He's ready Hermione," Dumbledore said sincerely. "He's ready to do this for his family."

"Well…well you just tell him I'm not!" Hermione shouted back, clutching Rose's head under her chin and looking wilder by the moment. "You go back there and you tell him he's not the boss of me! I've never listened to his orders before and I'm not about to start now!"

Hermione paused to let out a sob, looking up to the ceiling as if it might have the answers.

"Besides," she said, looking around frantically and still crying. "He's not even here. I've sent him away and he's not coming back! So you can take your time turners and your prophecies and go to hell!"

A wail escaped her then, so loud it made everyone freeze. Ginny started as if to walk toward her friend, every nerve in her body compelling Ginny to provide some sort of comfort. Suddenly, however, all movement was stopped by the sound of an apparition pop.

Ron Weasley appeared in the center of the living room, all eyes glued immediately to him in horror.

"Had to drop Lavender off, she was getting in the way," Ron told the room, looking around at all the agog faces. "What's going on with every…..Dumbledore?"

Ron's face registered the shock as he took in the presence of his old professor, who was of course supposed to be dead, sitting casually in an armchair and drinking his mother's tea.

"You came back?" Hermione whispered. Ron turned around quickly to look at Hermione, shaking his head of the confusion surrounding seeing Dumbledore again. Hermione was staring at Ron like he was an illusion, something that might vanish with any sudden movement. Her hand moved forward as if to reach for him. Then, remembering herself, she dropped it to her side again.

"Of course I came back," Ron replied, as if he couldn't understand Hermione's disbelief. He took a few tentative steps toward her, afraid she might jump with each step.

Hermione began moving as well, trying to put distance between herself and Ron. Taking two steps back, she pulled a rocking chair in front of her, continuing her back tracking. Ron kept on, easily pushing the chair out of the way and still moving forward. Hermione continued her attempts, moving away from him as quickly as she could while holding Rose. A foot stool, an end table, cushions, she helplessly shoved things in her path to keep Ron Weasley from getting any closer.

As Ron sidestepped each obstacle, he systematically maneuvered until Hermione was in front of a corner with nowhere else to go.

"Hermione," he said steadily. "I told you once at Shell Cottage I would never leave you again. I meant that…" Ron paused to take a deep breath, summoning his Gryffindor courage.

"Clearly, you can't stand me. And I'm not sure exactly why. I know I'm a prat sometimes and I've done some awful things in the past, but I didn't think it was enough for you to hate me this much…But guess what? _I_ don't hate _you_." Ron took in another gulp of air. "I don't understand a lot of what's going on right now, but you obviously need help. And I'm not going anywhere until I've helped you. You can bloody well just deal with it."

Ron had continued moving closer to Hermione through his entire speech. Hermione was crying steadily now, tears rolling down her cheeks but still standing tall. Her whole body was stiff, as if bracing for something, her knuckles white as she held on to her child. Ron took one more step, bringing himself just one foot from her.

"You know what though?" he asked quietly. Hermione shook her head no.

"I don't think you do hate me," he said, before reaching out to brush one tear off her face.

Hermione couldn't believe what he was saying, the conviction behind his words. In school, even going so far as to ask him out on a date wasn't enough to make him believe she had fancied him. Now, with all the evidence pointing to the contrary, he had somehow found the faith to believe in the two of them.

The touch of Ron's fingers was like a jolt to her senses, and she expelled herself backwards with such force, she hit the wall behind her. She held one hand out in front of herself, warning Ron to stay back. Ron let his own hand fall, startled but no less determined to fight this out to the end.

"This has all been rather illuminating," Dumbledore interrupted. "But, as you know, I have my hands full at Hogwarts and really need to get this progressing."

"Mr. Weasley," he said, turning to Ron, "you've missed some things while you were gone, but that shouldn't be a problem. I've been trying to get Hermione to come away with me, yet she won't comply."

Ron turned to look to Hermione, confused.

"Ah, the luxury of stubborn youth." Dumbledore shrugged his shoulders as if to say _What can you do?_

"Professor, can you take just her, please?" Hermione asked, holding out her daughter. Feeling her options fading, she could at least figure out a way to keep Rose safe. "I trust you, sir."

"It won't be necessary now," he replied, shaking his head. Looking at her closely, he added: "Remember, they just need one."

Hermione held Dumbledore's gaze, shaking her head in understanding.

Ginny jumped forward then, asking if Dumbledore might stay on a little longer. Whatever was to come, surely they would all be better off with Dumbledore there to fight alongside them.

"I'm afraid not Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said with a resigned smile. "This is out of my hands, some things must come to pass. I've done all I've been commissioned to, and now I must return."

Dumbledore turned to exit, but stopped just before reaching the door. He snapped his fingers as if remembering something. Pulling a long, thin chain from under his robes, he revealed a glass vial. He popped the vial off and held it out to Harry.

"Harry Potter gave this to me once, and now I'm giving it back," he said, before turning again to leave. "I trust you still have my pensieve?"


	16. Chapter 16

_**OK, this is part one of the pensieve scene. It will be continued in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**_

Ron was confused. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had missed something terribly important during his short time away from the burrow. The looks everyone was giving him were, well, bizarre. Ginny and Fleur were weepy, Mum kept trying to hold onto him, Harry looked guilty and the rest of them were acting just as strange. Except for Hermione. She suddenly seemed calmer than in the whole two days she'd been back in his life. _God, was it really just two days?_ It felt like an entire lifetime had happened since then.

He didn't know what Hermione had to be calm about now. If the vial in Harry's hand was any indication, they were all about to learn whatever thing it was that Hermione was so desperate to hide. Harry had quickly apparated to his and Ginny's flat and brought back the pensieve, which now rested on the floor of the living room. The whole family was gathered around it. Apparently, it was going to be a field trip.

"I'm not going," Hermione said suddenly, eyeing the bowl of the pensieve. "I already know what's in there, and I'd rather not see it twice."

Harry nodded, unstoppering the vial to pour the memory in.

"You'll be okay here?"

"Sure, I'll watch the kids," Hermione said calmly. "The wards are up, no one can get in."

Harry poured the memory out and into the pensieve then, and one by one each of the others pressed their faces forward, falling in. Ron took one more look at Hermione, who nodded and smiled at him reassuringly, then jumped into the inky blackness himself.

…..

They were standing in Ron's old bedroom at the burrow. The small space had somehow been stretched out to accommodate the twelve people who had just fallen into it. The edges of the room flared out in wispy, smoke-like tendrils. Ron landed on his backside with a thud and stood up, looking around to reacquaint himself. The walls were garish orange and Canons posters covered the area. And there, standing at his bed, was Hermione, folding a basket of laundry.

He watched her, the first time in ages he could examine her without her pushing him away. This Hermione couldn't glare or scowl at him; she couldn't see him at all. He watched the way her wavy hair hung down her back, some of it falling in front of her shoulders. It followed her as she moved, making quick work of the laundry with her thin, graceful hands. Ron wanted to laugh at the fact she was doing this the muggle way, even though he could see her wand in the back pocket of her jeans.

His family behind him stretched out to watch as well. He saw Ginny looking around curiously, and he realized it was the first time she'd been in a pensieve memory. Harry was watching Hermione as well, his eyes shining. It was obviously affecting him too, being this close to her, before she had gone away from them.

Suddenly, there was a pop, and an image appeared. The audience watching the scene jumped back in shock at the same time Hermione did. Hermione whipped around, dropping the neatly folded laundry and holding her wand out in front of her. When she saw who it was, she let the wand drop, then whipped it up again an instant later, realizing something was wrong.

Harry Potter was standing there, but it wasn't a version of Harry anyone in the room had ever seen before. His hair was short and graying at the temples. He had frown lines around his face and wore a wedding band on his left ring finger. This man looked to be about ten years older than the real Harry Potter should have been.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked, her voice stern.

"Careful Hermione," the figure said back. "You don't want to alarm anyone in the house."

This version of Harry held his hands up in front of him and placed a finger over his lips, motioning for quiet.

"It's me Hermione. Ask me something."

Ron watched as Hermione visibly struggled to understand what was going on, as she tried to come up with a suitable question.

"Where did we spend summer before fourth year?" she asked finally.

"Here," he said automatically. "At the burrow."

"That's a bit obvious, don't you think?"

The man paused, looking around as of for an answer. Spying one of the moving Canons posters, he spoke again.

"We went to the Quidditch World Cup, Dad…Mr. Weasley got us tickets."

Hermione lowered her wand at that, still eyeing the figure suspiciously. Taking in his appearance once more, something seemed to click inside that brilliant brain of hers.

"What year are you from?" she asked quietly.

"We need to go somewhere else," older Harry said. "To talk."

With that, the time traveler walked toward Hermione and touched her elbow. There was the telltale sound of an apparition pop, then they both disappeared.

As soon as it happened, Ron felt himself pulled along as well, moving somewhere else. The colors were blurred around him, but he could see faces: George, Mum, Bill…everyone was being dragged along as well. Finally it stopped and Ron found himself on the floor of a place that seemed familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The floor and walls were made of wood and he could tell from the few square windows that they were surrounded by trees.

"We're in our old tree house," Ginny said, looking astonished. None of the Weasley kids had been inside this tree house in ages. Dad had magicked it when they were younger to be tall and wide enough to fit all his offspring, and now the whole family stood in it again, watching as some future version of Harry led Hermione to a table in the center of the hut.

Taking a seat, older Harry began taking things out of his pockets and placing them on the table, Hermione looking at him apprehensively. Harry set down scraps of papers, books, newspaper clippings. Hermione reached out a hand to touch his arm, pausing his work.

"Harry, what's going on?" she asked. "You're scaring me."

"I knew you would need lots of proof," Harry responded, nodding his head at the table and looking determined. "I knew you wouldn't believe this unless it was written. You like things written down."

Hermione looked helplessly at the pages before her, clearly confused and overwhelmed. She shook her head.

"Just tell me, please?"

Older Harry looked at her for a long second, seeming to struggle with himself. Then he ran a hand through his hair and began explaining to Hermione about the prophecy, much the same way current day Harry had done a few hours ago in the kitchen of the burrow. He explained to Hermione about the trio, the break in at the department of mysteries, two death eaters set out to stop this one last prophecy.

"When Shraxen and Willigsbee stole the prophecy, they stole a time turner as well, before all the time turners were destroyed," Harry said. "They've been using it to move through time, trying to determine who around me the prophecy was speaking of."

"But why are you dealing with this now?"

"They've found out," Harry said gravely.

"How?"

"A child's been born." Harry paused, scanning Hermione's face to see if she followed. "In my time, a child's been born, a trio has been formed, and their magic is good and strong enough that any dark wizard would want to destroy it."

Hermione searched Harry's expression, trying to make sense of it, before speaking at last.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You haven't figured it out?" Harry asked, a wry smile on his face. "The child is yours. Yours and Ron's."

Hermione gasped and sat back in her seat at the tree house table. Ron, watching the memory, felt like he needed a seat himself. He looked around at the faces of his family, expecting them to be as shocked as he was. They seemed enthralled by the scene in front of them, but not a one looked as surprised as Ron felt they should. _Hermione and I have a baby together?_ He couldn't believe it. Then he thought about it again, the idea warming his heart and making him catch his breath. _Hermione and I have a baby together._

"Why are you telling me all this?" Hermione asked at last, looking unnerved and afraid to hear more.

Harry walked over to a corner of the tree house where a wicker basket lay, covered in a soft pink blanket. Holding the basket, Harry walked back to Hermione and set it down on the table.

"We need you to protect her now," Harry said, removing the blanket to reveal an infant Rose Weasley sleeping soundly in the basket.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Part two of the pensieve scene. Enjoy!**_

Ron was staring at the baby in the basket, his gaze not shifting. _Harry said it_, he thought. _Harry said this is my baby_. Ron couldn't believe it. She looked like a little puff of cloud. Her skin was so pale and soft-looking, her eyes were clear and her smile was so warm. Ron wanted to lay down next to her forever. This was his child. How had he ever gotten so lucky as to have created something so magical?

Ron jerked his head up from studying the baby to look at this memory-Hermione. She was studying the infant, her expression mirroring many of the emotions Ron was experiencing. She looked enthralled, impressed, amazed, but above all else, in love. Ron could tell immediately that whatever else this Hermione was thinking, she was already in love with Rose Weasley.

Hermione held out a hand to the baby, tears shining in her eyes already. The child grasped one of Hermione's fingers with her own. The connection seemed to radiate between the two, Hermione beaming back at the little girl as if she had known her all her life.

"Harry," Hermione said all of a sudden, looking up from the baby. "What do we do?"

"The prophecy only works once all three of you are together in one place. That's why we've taken her from you and Ron as soon as she was born in the future," Harry said quickly. "The thing we're really fighting now is a second prophecy that Shraxen and Willigsbee commissioned to counteract this first one."

Hermione frowned at Harry, her brow furrowed, confused.

"To help them in defeating this prophecized trio, they enlisted the help of a second-rate prophet, who gave them what they wanted," future Harry said steadily. "There's now a dark, evil, counter-prophecy declaring that if ever each member of this trio is under one roof, one of its unit will face the Avada Kedavra curse."

Hermione sucked in a breath, not believing what she was hearing. Ron, watching, moved closer, becoming more concerned with each word.

"We can fight this, so long as we make it so the three members of the trio are never under the same roof," Harry said urgently. "It's why I've taken Rose now, as an infant. She couldn't stay with you and Ron in the future, you made a perfect triangle."

"Shraxem and Willigsbee are after you," Harry continued. "Whatever time period they find you, Ron and Rose in, they can attack. They have a time turner and they're moving around, looking for the trio together."

"But now you've brought her here," Hermione said, trying to reason it out, "we still make a trio. If I have Rose… she, I and Ron complete the circle."

Harry looked at her with a grimace, nodding at Hermione's conclusion. Hermione and Harry looked hard at each other then, each of them at that moment fighting on a different side. Harry sighed.

"They can't strike at a later time, when Rose is older. Her magic would be too strong then to fight. They're coming after you when she's young," Harry said. "They know now, since I've run off with Rose, that she's been hidden elsewhere. They'll be looking through time for a moment when you and Ron are together with a baby."

"Why?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Because the magic the three of you generates, the bond of goodness and strength, can only be broken when you're each together," Harry said finally. "Going back in time and taking out you or Ron as eleven year olds, it won't work. It has to be at a time when you're at you're strongest, when you're all together, to truly destroy the bond."

Hermione sat back in her chair, contemplating the information. At the same time, Ron sat down on the floor of the tree house, suddenly having trouble standing. His brain was having problems contemplating what was going on, his mind shooting off synapses…Hermione…Rose…prophecy…it was a mess.

"So, you've taken Rose from her time in the future because these death eaters would have gone there to find her?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded, and she continued. "You've brought her here for me to watch over. Except Ron also lives in this time…and if I were near Ron with Rose that would also make a trio?"

Harry nodded a second time, looking like he finally knew Hermione understood what was being asked of her.

"So…what do you want me to do?" Hermione asked, timid and quiet, though Harry knew she could already tell the answer. Harry looked around the tree house, wishing there were someone else on hand to deliver the news. There wasn't.

"You have to leave Ron," Harry said finally. "You need to leave here today with Rose and never come back."

Future Harry's admission hit Ron like a dagger to the heart. Watching this display, he was trying to be rational. But so many facts were being thrown at him at once. He and Hermione were together in some future life, and they had a child. And now here was Harry, telling Hermione to take that child and run away from him. It made Ron want to turn to where he knew the current Harry stood behind him and deck him over the head.

Looking at Hermione, he could tell she felt the same way. She looked infuriated. She looked like she was ready to fight an entire army before she let one man tell her what to do. And Ron agreed with her, almost praying she would refuse to do what Harry asked, though he already knew the outcome.

"Leave Ron?" Hermione said in a hushed whisper. "How is that even possible?"

Harry looked out a side window of the tree house, shaking his head like even he didn't know the answer.

"Harry…Harry!" Hermione shouted, until she had his attention. "You know Ron would never accept this. What am I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say 'Ron, I need to go now forever, and not see you again as long as I live?' He would never accept that. He'll…he'll fight for me."

Harry looked steadily on then, nodding earnestly as if believing what she'd just said.

"I know," he said. "That's why you have to make it convincing. I was thinking, if it gets difficult…maybe something like what you did with your parents?"

Hermione looked as if someone had just slapped her. She shook her head no then opened her mouth in a grimace of pain. The tears fell steadily and she began gasping for breath, looking as if she were drowning right there in the tree house. Her face was a mask of pain and had anyone seen it in real time they would have gladly done anything to get that look of grief off Hermione Granger's expression. She looked as if she were slowly dying from the inside out, so stricken was she by the idea of a life led without Ron Weasley in it.

Opening and closing her mouth, Hermione began trying to protest, throwing up any objection she could think of.

"Even if we did this," she said desperately, "what if one of us falls, in this time? How would Rose be born later?"

"No one can take back Rose's birth," Harry said reassuringly. "Time travel is like a pretzel, if Rose has been born then sent back, nothing we do now can stop her birth…it's already happened."

Ron bit back a rude remark as he heard George behind him ask, "What's a pretzel?"

"Our worry now is someone killing her in this time," future Harry continued. "Or of course, killing you or Ron."

"Me or Ron?"

"Yes," Harry said forcefully. "They only need to kill one. If they're able to strike down even one of you at a moment when you're all together, they've killed the whole trio and succeeded. It's why we must keep you separated until Shraxen and Willigsbee are behind bars."

Hermione nodded through her tears, seeming to finally understand the task before her. Ron, watching the memory, moved closer to this Hermione and crouched before her. His own face was already awash with tears, amazed at what he was hearing. He reached out a hand to touch her face, wanting to provide her some comfort. Ginny's quiet whispers behind him reminded Ron this was all a dream.

"I think I understand all of this, but I don't know why you're coming to me only," Hermione said after a spell. "Why does this all have to be a secret?"

Harry took two full breaths then, steadying himself for what he knew would be the hardest blow of the story.

"You remember I talked about the second, evil prophecy, that says one of the trio must face the Avada Kedavra?" Harry said slowly. Hermione nodded, urging Harry to go on. "It will be Ron. He'll throw himself in front of the curse, put himself in front of you or Rose to take the death curse and sacrifice himself."

Hermione shook her head no, throwing her hands over her mouth in disbelief. Behind him, Ron heard his mother give a shout and could hear his father trying to console her. None of it was making sense to Ron at the moment, and none of the surrounding noise mattered at all. All of his attention was focused on Hermione.

"You have to do whatever it takes, Hermione," future Harry said, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her urgently. "Even if you have to be cruel, you need to make sure he can never come find you and Rose again. Because if he does, the moment he's ever near the two of you, these death eaters will arrive and attack. And Ron will die."

Hermione stared down at the spot where Harry's hand held her shoulders. Tears were flowing in earnest now, and she didn't know when they would ever stop.

"Even as we speak, Ron's putting into action backup plans to ensure it's not you or Rose. He'll do whatever it takes to make sure if one of you gets killed, it's him."

"He is always doing very stupid thing," Hermione said, her voice thick with tears. Harry tried to smile at the joke.

"And how am I supposed to do this?" Hermione asked, her voice a pained, harsh whisper.

"Harry…you don't understand," she said in a choked voice. "I-I can't leave Ron…he and I, well…Harry, I love him. I'm in love with him Harry!" Hermione said the last bit as if it made all the difference in the world. Unfortunately, Harry knew it would.

Hermione took a deep breath, struggling with the effort of the confession. Several more tears had begun trailing down her cheeks, an endless stream. Sitting silently beside her, Ron tried to reach out and brush the tears away, but, of course, he couldn't reach her.

"I do understand, Hermione. I know how much you love him. You and Ron, well, I've seen you. All this time I've watched you together, and believe me, you only get stronger as time goes by," Harry said, resigned. "I know exactly what kind of bond you and Ron and have. That's why I know you'll do this for him."

Hermione cried harder now, the truth of Harry's statement hitting her like a wall. Of course she would do this for Ron. She would do anything for him.

"I'm going to take this moment and turn it into a memory," Harry added. "I'll take it to Dumbledore. Someone else needs this information, just in case."

"Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, quiet tears still streaking her face. "He's dead."

"Yeah," Harry chuckled sardonically. "Funny how he still has a hand in things."

Drawing his wand out and placing it to his temple as if to draw out a memory, Harry paused again to speak.

"You need to know we're all working on this together. You, at least future you, came up with this idea on your own. And Ron, too…I'm not doing this without your permission. The two of you agreed this is what should be done, and once the danger is past, we'll make sure Rose gets sent back." Harry paused, standing up and walking toward the exit of the tree house as if to leave.

"You trusted me to enact this because you both knew I would look after Rose as my own," Harry said, turning to Hermione from the door. "And trust me, it is now my own personal mission to stop these death eaters and make sure this child gets back to you and Ron in the correct time. I know how much my friends want their baby back. You have the past, present and future working together to help you here."

With that, Harry placed the wand to his temple, beginning to draw out a thin line of memory. As Harry pulled a small glass vial out of his pocket to preserve the moment, the images faded and all of the people watching tumbled out of the memory and back into real time.

Ron felt the space of the memory slipping from him; it was like swimming upwards from the bottom of a lake. Suddenly, he, Harry and all the rest of them were back in the living room of the burrow where they had started, standing around the ancient pensieve.

Everyone was affected. Ginny was openly weeping, clearly moved by what she had just seen, and Harry had an arm around her shoulder. Harry himself looked like he might start crying at any moment. Mum and Dad were huddled together at the back of the room, Mum's face hidden in Dad's neck. Bill and Fleur were whispering together in hushed urgency, and both Angelina and Audrey were holding hands in a corner. Charlie, Percy and George were silent, but both looked as serious as if old professor Umbridge had walked through the door.

Ron stood upright in the center of it all. He was clenching his eyes shut, trying to understand. The truth of it hurt so damn bad. He could feel the need to cry like a baby welling up inside him, resulting in a few renegade tears falling down his cheeks. His eyes still closed, he thought about what it all meant, about the sacrifice of it all, about how it must have hurt her…

Suddenly, he was consumed with a need to see Hermione. His eyes whipped open, scanning the room for her. She had been there before they had gone, where was she now? Ron started frantically, searching for her. She wasn't in the living room. He began opening every closet door and looking behind every sofa, searching for her.

"I can't find her either," Harry said, sidling up behind him. Immediately, the entire group, moved by the pensieve, was on the hunt for Hermione. They looked about the room, until finally Ron began moving toward the door leading into the kitchen. Swinging it open, he was unprepared for the sight that met him.

There stood Lavender Brown holding little Rose Weasley at her hip. Noticing the oncoming crowd, she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Hermione is gone."

…..

_**AN: I've used the pretzel idea of time travel to make it so Ron or Hermione dying in the present time wouldn't prevent Rose from being born, as making sure Rose is born wasn't really my focus. Hope it's not too confusing here!**_


	18. Chapter 18

Panic, that's the only emotion Ron could make out. He was panicked. Information was overwhelming him and people were moving swiftly all around him, trying to make sense of what was happening, but all Ron could do was stand stock still in pure panic.

Lavender Brown was holding Rose. _His_ Rose. Ron's brain tried to catalogue the information, but he couldn't sort it out. How could Hermione be gone? She was just here. He saw her in the living room and then he saw her in the pensieve, and then she was all he saw for a long time, and now he needed to see her again. _Needed to_. And she was gone?

"Where did she go Lavender?" Harry asked quickly. _Good_, Ron though. Harry can keep a cool head in a crisis, he'll help work this out and then they'll all be fine.

"Well, I have no idea," Lavender replied, as if it were a stupid question. "I got a floo call from her fifteen minutes ago telling me I had to come over right away. I thought maybe _you_," Lavender indicated Ron with her eyes, "might need me." She said the last bit as if very put out. "I got here and she said she had to run off, that she'd just got a call from Kingsley and needed to respond. She said I should come watch the children."

At that, Fleur walked over to where Victoire sat in a high chair and picked her daughter up, holding her close. Ginny moved forward to take Rose from Lavender's hands, peering down at the child as if looking at her for the first time. There was pride in Ginny's eyes.

"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said impatiently. "What would Hermione need to do right this instant?"

"Search me," Lavender said. "Whatever it is, it made me feel like you all were up to your old Hogwarts antics."

Both Harry and Ginny blinked at Lavender, clearly not getting the point.

"She took your invisibility cloak." Lavender said it as if that fact should have been obvious.

This information snapped Ron out of his daze. Hermione had run off to God knows where and the only person with any clues was Lavender Brown. He'd never been so grateful to see the poor girl, not in three whole years of dating her. Oh God, _he'd been dating Lavender for three years_. What upside down world had Hermione created? As soon as he got his hands on Hermione he was going to…well he wasn't quite sure, but words would be exchanged.

"Lavender," he said suddenly, grabbing the girl by the shoulders. "Where did she go? You have to tell us where she went."

Lavender gaped at Ron like he was a lunatic, gently shaking off his grip on her shoulders.

"Relax. She left you a note."

Lavender held out a piece of folded up paper and Ron snatched it from her fingers.

"I wouldn't get too excited," Lavender said sarcastically. "It's doesn't say much."

Ron flipped the paper open to see the sprawling, dainty cursive he would recognize anywhere, spelling out four words: _I don't hate you._

It said everything.

Ron squeezed his fist, bunching up the paper in the process. He turned to look at Harry, ready to put some sort of plan into action. Harry wasn't there however, and Ron noticed his friend over by the fireplace, crouched down as if talking to someone. Ron recognized Kingsley's face in the embers and bent down to listen.

"I know, Kingsley," Harry said. "But Hermione's gone and Lavender thinks she may have spoken to you before she left."

"She did, Harry. I flooed to get a warning message to the burrow and Hermione was the only one there, so I made sure she got the message and she assured me she'd let you all know immediately."

"What was the message?" Ron asked, cold dread filling him.

"We have reports of a muggle attack in Ottery St. Catchpole," Kingsley said stoically. "It was Shraxen and Willigsbee. They're on their way to the burrow as we speak."

Ron took a step back from the fireplace, as if trying to put distance between himself and the news. It didn't make any sense. She was protected by the wards, no one could get in. Why wouldn't she stay put, where she was safe? Hermione would never run into danger without any backup or help. A realization hit Ron then and it made him want to cry out.

"Harry. She doesn't have a wand."

Ron began taking deep breaths. He felt dizzy. The information stunned Harry as well, who obviously hadn't considered that fact before. Movement in the living room was reaching a peak, as Fleur and Audrey ran with Rose and Victoire to the basement, Bill and Charlie following to place strong concealment charms on the closed basement door. Mum and Dad were waving their wands around frantically checking and rechecking that the wards were safe and firm throughout. Percy was flipping madly through a book, Ron didn't know what he might be looking for, and George and Angelina were running around locking every window and door available.

In the middle of it, Ron, Harry and Ginny stood facing one another, minds racing to piece together their next actions.

"Kingsley said he's rounding up some of the top aurors and they'll be here in a matter of minutes," Harry said quickly.

"She couldn't have got far," Ron said. "We'll canvas the area, we can find her before they do."

Ginny shook her head, something not adding up for her.

"Hermione left here without any protection, no wand, nothing," Ginny said. "She hasn't gone to fight them."

"Well what then?" Ron shouted, frustrated and running on panic once more.

"In the memory, Harry told Hermione that Ron would jump in front of her, to keep her from being struck with an Avada Kedavra curse…" Ron nodded, quietly urging Ginny to hurry up. Harry was quiet, his face a solemn mask of sudden understanding.

"She's taken my invisibility cloak, Ron," Harry said, his eyes drilling into his best mate's. "She's made it so you can't see her, so you can't save her."

"She's gone out there to die."


	19. Chapter 19

_**This was an intense chapter to write, everything has led us here! Thanks so much for reading and responding!**_

Dozens of people filled the burrow. Groups were arranged in fours, standing in perfect lines around the living room. Bill, Charlie, Percy and George made one line. Kingsley and his three top aurors made another. Harry's squad was there, adding eight more, and Ginny, Angelina, Mum and Dad made up the last group. Ron stood at the center of the room, Harry slightly behind him. Harry's squad had never seen him take the number two position before, but nobody was complaining, not even Harry himself. No one in the room was under any illusion that anyone but Ron was calling the shots.

"Hoxley, you and your men take the north field," Ron said sternly, pointing to the group he was addressing. "Krayshen, you guard the south. Kingsley, take your squad to the east and Bill, head to the west. Mum, Dad, take Angelina and Ginny and guard the perimeter, but stay within the wards."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Harry silenced her with a look and held out his badge.

"It's an order," Harry said firmly.

"And what will you and Harry cover?" Kingsley asked.

"All of it," Ron replied, his face set in a stony expression. The groups set out with that, moving quickly through different exit doors of the burrow. Ron could hear their movements, footsteps and slamming doors. Some men boarded brooms to take to the air for a peripheral view and some were on foot, spreading out to search the extensive grounds for Hermione. And everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the party was crashed by the death eaters.

"Ron, what do I do?" Lavender asked as Ron was almost out the door. He sighed and turned back to her.

"Stay here, please? Don't get yourself hurt."

"What about you?" Lavender said, tearing up. Ron felt sorry for her for the first time in two days. "I think you should stay here, too. It's not safe for you out there."

Ron studied Lavender, noticing his Mum standing beside her. Mum watched the display, looking for Ron's reaction, as if checking to see if he would heed Lavender's request. Mum had lost a son already and wasn't ready to send another one off, not on a night when it had all but been decreed he should be killed.

"Consider it Ron?" Mum asked quietly, her face strained and her hands clutching at each other. "Don't be reckless."

Ron heard her, but the words were useless. This had been decided a long time ago. Past and future generations knew it, Hermione seemed to know it, looking at them now he could tell Lavender and Mum knew it, too. He himself had known it all along. Ron Weasley would die for the woman he loved.

"It's Hermione, Mum."

With that, he turned and exited the safety of his childhood home.

The darkness outside the burrow was illuminated by lit up wands, dotting the landscape on all sides. Ron darted forward, no idea where he was going, but needing to move. He could feel the moment his body passed the protective wards, but he didn't hesitate. Instead, he moved toward a thick grouping of trees, his eyes darting everywhere, searching for that familiar face. Inwardly, he knew it wouldn't be that easy. Hermione was invisible for God's sake, but that fact was also a comfort. Ron figured if he couldn't see Hermione, then neither could the death eaters. That detail just might keep her safe.

Moving along, some small part of Ron's mind knew that wasn't going to be the solution. If Hermione wanted to be found by Shraxem and Willigsbee, she would make it happen. A sob exited Ron's lungs at the thought, but he pushed it down, running faster instead. The running made deep breaths necessary leaving no time to give into the doubts. Hermione would be fine. She would be perfectly fine. He would force her to be.

As he ran, Ron constantly pointed his wand in different directions, muttering _accio cloak_ in between his heavy inhaling and exhaling, praying that by some chance his wand would point at an invisible Hermione and the thing would come flying off her. Revealing her. How was he supposed to save her if he couldn't see her, damn it?

Ron was interrupted from his thoughts by a shout, and he rushed out of the wooded space back to the clearing. There, flying in circles around the burrow, were four black cloaked figures. Their trails left long lines of gray-black smoke in their wake, making it look like a storm cloud was circling the house. The lines got as close to the perimeter line of the wards as possible, two moving clockwise, two moving in the other direction.

_Why are there four of them?_

He felt a tug at his elbow and turned swiftly to face Harry, his wand instantly drawn up to his friend's throat. Dropping the wand back down, Harry didn't even flinch, just spoke.

"They've used the time turner again," he said urgently. "It's two of them from our time, two from the future."

Ron nodded and the two friends instantly separated again, running in different directions. Neither needed to tell the other to be safe, to get to Hermione, to protect the house, to keep an eye out for Ginny…they both mutually accepted those responsibilities, one mindset now without speaking.

Ron ran toward the death eater closest to him. The four had dispersed now, flying out at various angles, throwing hexes and curses at the team of aurors on the ground. Flashes of light whizzed past Ron's head; he ducked and bobbed to miss each one, throwing a few of his own over his shoulder. If they could just bring down all four before they found Hermione, it would be all right. Ron threw a stunning spell at one that looked to be an older Willigsbee, but the figure flew straight up into the air just before it hit him.

There was a crash to his left and Ron looked to see one of the aurors on the floor, having fallen from a broom. The broom landed next to the auror with a thump and Ron summoned it to him immediately. It flew through the air and sharply into his hand. He was already running before it reached him and he jumped onto the broom at a gallop, shooting upward in the direction the death eater had just gone. Ron could make out his shape about forty yards above him. He urged the broom on, picking up speed and gaining altitude. Just as Ron was reeling back to throw a hex, the death eater shot back down at a sharp angle. Ron had to compensate and jerk down, sending his broom into a straight angle toward the floor. The floor was coming at him faster and faster but Ron kept on, obsessively tracking the death eater until he got a good line up and threw a stunner.

The death eater crashed to the ground and Ron followed, not having enough time to jerk upright and land softly. He rolled three times and the broom broke in two. Jumping up instantly, Ron ran toward the felled death eater, binding him quickly in ropes with his wand.

"One down!" Ron bellowed as loudly as he could. He heard Harry's reply from the other side of the field.

"Two down!"

Ron wondered which one Harry had managed to catch but immediately moved on, running to a clump of woods where he saw three aurors trying to reign in a dark figure darting through the trees. He was moving quickly until something caught in the corner of his eye. He turned his head back toward the burrow, where he saw little Rose walking on unsure legs across the yard. Ron froze in a moment of disbelief. No one else was around her and she was moving closely to the perimeter of the wards. In the doorway he saw Fleur clutching Victoire, screaming for her to come back, and Audrey running as fast as she could to retrieve Rose. Ron could tell from the distance she wouldn't make it in time.

"Rose!" he shouted. "No!"

His legs darted him forward, running faster than he thought was humanly possible. Time seemed to slow as he watched with unbelieving eyes each step Rose took forward, moving her closer and closer to danger. He called on every ounce of energy left in his body and moved faster. Just as one of her little feet passed over the barrier, Ron had scooped her up in his arms and run over to the other side, back within the wards.

He held his daughter up before him, heaving in breath, staring into her little face. How had she gotten out here? Why wasn't she being looked after?

"You're as crazy as your mother, you know that?" he said to the little girl, shock still in his voice. Audrey finally made it to them, panting herself.

"Ron, I'm so sorry. We had her in the basement and I was letting her hold my wand, distracting her with it." Audrey put one hand on Ron's arm to steady herself. "All of a sudden, she started doing magic and we couldn't contain her. I've never seen anything like it in a child so young. It's like she knew you were in danger."

Ron looked at the child again, bewildered. He gently plucked the thin wand still in Rose's hand and gave it back to Audrey. An explosion behind them brought them out of their reverie, and Ron turned to Audrey once more.

"Get back inside. It's not safe."

Audrey nodded and went to take Rose from Ron's arms when a hissing voice suddenly rang out, loud and clear for everyone on the premises to hear. Ron instinctively clutched Rose closer to him.

"Ron Weasley…your time has run out…" the voice hissed, its sound echoing across the field. Ron looked around, noticing for the first time that a third death eater had been felled and there was only one left.

"You've managed a good fight….that girl of yours has shown some cunning intellect…" Ron knew that voice, he would never forget it. It was Shraxen, and Ron scowled at the air. Shraxen was flying in swift rings around the burrow, his speed and smoke trail making it difficult for anyone on the floor to hit him. Sparks of blue and red were shot up into the air, but the death eater expertly dodged each one.

Behind him, Ron saw Ginny, Lavender and the rest of his family, thankfully safe within the borders. Kingsley and Harry could be seen in the perimeter, still shouting out orders to officers, as those outside the wards circled in a frantic race.

"Are you ready to die Ron Weasley….or will you leave that to the little lady?"

Ron carefully place Rose on the ground, crouching down in front of her. His eyes were glued to the dark figure above, his face determined but grim.

"Where is she Weasley?...I know she's around her somewhere…..you can't outrun your destiny….."

Ron darted his gaze around desperately, wishing dearly he did know where Hermione was. _C'mon Hermione, show yourself_. If she was somewhere outside the wards she was like a sitting duck, with no way to get back inside. She couldn't get in, but Ron could get out. If she would just reveal herself Ron would be there in an instant, he could shield her, throw hexes, give her his wand…anything.

Then, Ron knew what to do. Fumbling quickly in his pocket he breathed a sigh of relief when his hand closed over a cool, metal object.

During those years Hermione was gone from his memory, he puzzled over why Dumbledore had given him the deluminator. He never could figure it out. He had no recollection of using it to find her in the Forest of Dean, when he had needed her desperately, at that moment wanting to hear the sound of her voice more than anything else in the world. It was like apparition, that source of light taking him somewhere that wasn't a place, but was no less a destination. It was the most beautiful piece of magic, because it could always take him home. Hermione was home.

Ron clicked the top of the deluminator open and scanned the field, holding his breath. Then, in as calm and clear a voice as he could muster, he called out her name.

"Hermione." It was a statement, but loud enough that it reached across the clearing. For a moment, it was as if all other noise stopped. Then Ron heard laughing.

"Are you crying out for your woman?" Shraxen laughed cruelly, darting around now in a zig zag pattern. The sadistic figure looked almost like he was enjoying himself.

Ron shook his head. This would work, it had to.

"C'mon Hermione," he said to himself. "Hermione!"

He shouted her name, louder this time. Feeling the urgency build with each second, as Shraxen began circling lower to the ground, as if zeroing in on something.

"HERMIONE! Answer me!"

He was begging now, he could hear the plea in his own voice. Around him, his family drew closer, each holding out their wands around him as if making a mini barrier of protection. Harry stopped in his chase at the sound of Ron's last scream, turning to look at his friend. Ron watched as Harry registered the deluminator, realizing what was about to happen. Harry jerked one hand out as if to stop Ron, trying to run to his mate but barred by the wards that separated them.

Ron didn't care. This was his only plan and it was a good one. This, he could do. If it was the last thing on Earth he ever did, he would make Hermione Granger say his name.

"HERMIONE!"

His screams grew more insistent, and he yelled her name over and over, the sound bouncing around almost like a holy song. Then, as quietly as he had heard it that first time, so many years ago, she spoke to him.

"Ron."

The whisper blew out of the deluminator, so soft only he could hear. In an instant Ron was turning, moving into the small ball of light until it engulfed him. The last thing he heard before it enveloped him was a gasp and the beginning shout of a killing curse.

Hermione had suddenly appeared, ten feet in front of the wards and now in clear view of everyone in the burrow. The cloak was thrown off just as Shraxen had pulled up in front of her, as if she had been waiting for him there. He didn't hesitate for a second before aiming his wand and delivering the final blow.

Harry moved toward them both, his wand drawn to begin a shielding spell, but it was too late.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The curse rushed toward Hermione, green light shooting for her chest. Then, inches before the magic reached her, a figure appeared before her with a pop. The curse hit his back instantly, dropping Ron Weasley down cold with a horrifying thud.


	20. Chapter 20

_**A little Hermione POV. Don't worry, there are still some chapters to come, explaining it all ;)**_

Hermione was standing so close to the tree, the bark was digging into her skin. She moved away from it, afraid the splinters might snag the invisibility cloak and create a spot where she might be seen. It was hard to find a free space to stand in, the area surrounding the burrow was now so covered with aurors and members of the Weasley family, running about in a wild man hunt.

When Hermione had first run out of the house it had been much more quiet. She had left the children with Lavender, holding Rose's scalp to her face for a full fifteen seconds before letting go. Even though Hermione hadn't given birth to the child herself, the maternal bond there was fierce, and walking away from Rose was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. It was just one in an ever-growing list of difficult tasks, unfortunately.

At first, she had run to the outside of the wooded area just north of the clearing in front of the burrow. Sitting there underneath the cloak, she felt very well concealed. She had no idea the task force Ron and Harry would turn out. Now, it was difficult to find a free spot to stand in without bumping into someone. And the not bumping into was the most important part; who wouldn't notice walking into a solid mass that looked invisible?

Hermione darted out of the way of a rogue flash of blue light, not knowing what curse she'd just avoided. She would have been frustrated at not having a wand, but then of course the whole point of this had been to put herself out here as helpless bait. Take the fall for the whole group, so that the others could move on.

In the end, she didn't think it was such a bad deal. She had spent the last three years believing either Ron or Rose would one day be struck down dead, both options equally horrific. She had lost sleep, driven herself mad, aged beyond her years in trying to figure out a solution. She had always been praised as so clever, and yet in three years of deep thinking she could never come up with a way to make it all turn out well.

At first, figuring out a way to be with Ron had been an ultimate goal. What value could life have if she couldn't be with Ron? Then, as she had gradually become despondent on the idea of a happily ever after, she had settled on just keeping him alive. If she could just figure out a way to keep everyone alive and well, she could breathe easy. Of course, Harry had ruined all that the night he showed up at her cottage in Cornwall. The dye had been cast and they were all in the middle of this now, like it or not.

Hermione paused from her musings to watch a poor young auror fall from the sky, his broomstick toppling down next to him. She shuttered at the sound of his crash down to Earth.

Hermione had done much thinking on the prophecy over the past three years. Her, Rose and Ron being together…what did it mean? Was it a physical proximity? Was it emotional? What would it mean for them to be a family? Watching Ron get ready to fall into the pensieve that evening, Hermione finally understood. Ron was readying himself to learn the true identity of Rose. He would know about his child, know that she, Hermione, had birthed an infant with Ron. And from that moment on, Hermione had no doubt that Ron would be dedicated to them as if his life depended on it. He was loyal to family…to a fault. He was a Weasley after all. Hermione knew after seeing that memory, that would be it for him. She, Rose and Ron would be a family from that moment on. Ron would make it so.

So Hermione ran. She ran before he could come back and make her stay. Whatever his feelings toward Hermione, she knew Ron would stand by his child, stand by the mother of that child. So she wasn't giving him that option. Getting Lavender in line to protect the girls gave her enough ease of mind to slip out, never to be found again.

Hermione's thoughts were stalled as she heard a crash, and she turned under the cloak to see Ron fall to the ground off a broomstick. She held her breath, using every bit of effort to not call out. Ron seemed okay, jumping up again and encasing the death eater he was after in bondage. Hermione wanted to give a cheer, admiring Ron's perseverance in the face of this. But she already knew it was all for naught. Ron was fighting a battle he didn't realize was already lost.

Years ago, she didn't think she could ever love anything as much as she loved Ron Weasley. Then, she saw Rose. And her love was multiplied. It was a different kind of love for each, really, both deep and passionate, but the two types of love fell in the same pocket of Hermione's heart. Ron and Rose combined to make this force that she would protect now with every inch of her being, each of them more important than air. They were in danger now, had been really for three years, and she was finally ready to do whatever she could to keep them out of harm's way.

Hermione turned suddenly at Ron's shout. He'd yelled Rose's name, hadn't he? There, walking across the burrow front lawn, Hermione saw Rose walking feebly. Hermione wanted to scream but bit down on her tongue. She started to run but was broken off by the wards, unable to get across. She needn't have bothered anyway, as Hermione saw Ron take off in a gallop toward their daughter. He looked as anxious to get to her as if she were a prized daughter he had loved for twenty years. Ron pulled the child up from the floor within seconds, holding her away from danger and pulling her back within the safety of the Weasley wards.

In that moment, Hermione knew she had made the right choice. Ron would be good at loving Rose. He would protect her and watch over her. He would teach her to ride a broom and help her collect chocolate frog cards; instruct her to support the Canons and root for whatever house she got sorted into one day at Hogwarts. Ron would be the most magnificent father…he could love Rosie enough for the both of them. Watching Ron hold their child then, Hermione was no longer scared. The two of them, her dearest loves, would be okay. It put a peace in her hear that made it easier to greet death.

Because that was what Hermione was doing. She was waiting for the exact moment, when one of the four death eaters flying about was exactly in front of her, and she would reveal herself. Reveal herself at too late a moment for anyone to jump in front of her.

Then, she heard Ron calling for her. The sound made her jump the first time. It had been years since he had said her name like that. She remembered quickly a scene in Malfoy Manor, Ron below her and trying desperately to break free and save her. It wasn't so different a situation now. Except this time, unlike the last, she was praying he never came to the rescue.

Ron shouted her name again, this time louder. Hermione closed her eyes against it and moved toward the perimeter of the Weasley wards, just underneath where the last death eater was circling maniacally. Her back hit the magical barrier, the invisible wall holding so sturdy she could actually rest her body upon it as if it were made of brick and mortar.

She stood there, her head tilted up, watching the death eater move around and around, waiting for the perfect moment when he would be in front of her. Ron's screams kept on, his calling of her name becoming more urgent with each call. It made her hold her breath, so scared she was of calling out back to him, alerting the others to her presence. It seemed a crime not to respond to Ron when he was begging for her so earnestly.

But this had been the cause all along. She had known from the start that this wouldn't be easy, that Ron might be hurt in the process. Yet it was all in an effort to save his life, to give him a chance at living a joyful and vibrant existence. Ron was one of the most animated people she knew and the thought of him lifeless…dead…was more than one heart could bear. She would gladly die first.

It was with these thoughts that she prepared herself for the end. The death eater was circling lower and lower, and she knew it would be only a matter of seconds. Ron was still calling for her, begging her to show herself. As the death eater came closer, Hermione closed her eyes and readied herself for that last moment, only finally opening her mouth at the instant the dark figure hovered before her.

"Ron," she whispered, silently, only to herself. It was both a prayer and a pledge, reminding her why she was going through with this. If she had to die, it would be with his name on her lips, like a holy oath. At almost the exact moment, she threw the invisibility cloak off her, revealing her form to Shraxen. The death eater, who now stood directly in front of her, wasted no time in shooting his wand forward. The killing curse was out of his mouth in less than two seconds.

Hermione opened her eyes again, ready to greet whatever was coming. Then, her body was overcome with shock. Instead of the colorful surge of magic she expected to see coursing toward her, she saw Ron. He was standing there in front of her all of a sudden, so close his head towered just above her own, and her hands instinctively reached forward to him. She could make out the cool blue color of his vibrant, beautiful eyes, and then his whole body was consumed with green light. His body dropped then to the floor, struck down by the Avada Kedavra.


	21. Chapter 21

_**Sorry to make you guys wait all day for this. Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!**_

Someone was screaming, the wails so loud they reverberated in Hermione's skull. It hurt her ears and her throat. That's when she realized the noise was coming from her.

She was on her knees in an instant, hunched over Ron, clutching handfuls of his shirt in her fists, as he lay silent, ignoring her cries. _No, no, no, no, no_. Hermione tugged harder at the shirt, pulling as if moving his torso would put energy back in his body. Her knees dug into the muddy ground, her head dipped low over one spot above his chest. Her eyes were almost unwilling to look upward yet, didn't want to search his face for confirmation. Instead, her gaze focused on the spot where she knew his heart should be beating, working with her hands and her tears to make him move.

When pulling didn't seem to work, she deciding hitting might. Her balled up fists rained down on his chest, striking him, willing him to sit up and protest. The fists came down faster and faster, but the force behind them grew lighter, until Hermione collapsed over him, her face pressed into the cool linen of his shirt, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Another heaving sob was ripped from her, and her body convulsed with the effort.

"Ron!" she wailed, the tears soaking through the fabric of his shirt. Hermione inhaled several times in quick succession, unable to catch her breath. Her hands lay at either side of her face, still pressed against his shirt, her fingers digging into his skin there.

Behind her, Hermione heard commotion, people running toward her. She drew herself up and over Ron's face finally, as if to shield him from whatever else was coming. She pulled his head inches off the ground and cradled him in her arms, searching his face for anything, something to prove this wasn't real and the world hadn't just caved in on itself.

"Noooo," Hermione cried, her fingers running over his closed eyes. "Oh God…please no."

It was getting harder to see his face, her vision was so blurred from tears. Her throat felt raw from the screaming and she was still having trouble getting any air into her lungs. It didn't matter. She rocked back and forth with Ron in her arms, sporadically crying out wails of protest, begging for this not to be true.

There was a hand at her shoulder and she heard Harry's voice, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. She jerked away from Harry, pulling Ron's body even closer to her. Oh God…Ron's body. Fresh tears fell then, another wave of grief hitting her as she tried to comprehend the idea of Ron being a _body_.

Harry's arm found her shoulder again, tugging more insistently. Well he could just keep tugging. She wouldn't let any of them near him, would refuse to let the moment come when she had to release Ron and face the reality of it. If she just stayed there forever, she could imagine it was her and Ron, outside of the burrow, locked in an embrace.

Her nose touched his hair and she breathed in deeply, the most oxygen she had been able to get in since collapsing to the floor. The smell of his hair was like a memory, something she had never forgotten, not through three lonely years of longing for him. Hermione's tears dampened his hair as the horrible longing struck her once more. She couldn't fathom a lifetime of that yearning, of forever having to live in a world where he didn't exist. He had been her compass point for so long, the thing that had kept her on her course, even when he didn't know it.

He was the love of her life and she would hold onto him forever; she'd be damned if she let Harry Potter take him away from her now.

Hermione felt another touch, this time to the back of her skull. She reared her head back, ready to growl at Harry or whoever else was trying to take Ron from her arms. But this touch was lighter than Harry's had been, more…unsure. Hermione looked up and blinked, trying to see through her wet tears.

Ron's eyes stared back at her.

All of the air rushed out of her. Her breathing was rigid as her eyes bore into Ron's, trying to determine if she was imagining this. His eyes were open now and Hermione could their beautiful blue color, a shade identical to her daughter's. One of his hands was behind her head, his fingers snaking through her hair. His eyes blinked several times and Hermione's fingers clutched tighter at him, willing him not to slip away. Then, he spoke.

"Mione?"

Hermione gave a small cry at the sound, not believing what she had just heard. Tears fell faster now and Hermione moved in closer to his face, as if studying his nose, his cheeks, his mouth.

"Ron?"

He nodded at her, reaching his other hand up to touch her cheek. He rubbed away a few of her tears.

"Am I dead?" he asked, his voice raspy.

Hermione let out a shout, roughly pulling his head to her shoulder and holding him there. He pulled back to sit up further, shaking his head groggily. His skin was pale and he looked like he could use a long nap, but he was alive. Ron was alive.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak again but couldn't think of what to say. Instead she put her arms out to draw him in again, but was interrupted as Lavender crashed down to the floor, smothering Ron's face with kisses.

"Oh my God, I was so worried!"

Hermione sat back slowly on her heels as Ron twisted to accommodate Lavender. Molly was at him next, pulling up one of his arms to lay her cheek on his palm. Hermione moved back farther still, watching the display with unblinking eyes. The gamut of emotions running through her ranged from awe to glee to bewilderment. She licked her lips and took a deep gulp.

Harry finally got Hermione's attention, helping her stand up and looking her over to check that she was okay. He tried to wipe some of the mud off her knees but it was no use. Instead, Harry pointed Hermione's attention to a spot a few feet away, where she saw Shraxen, dead on the floor. _When did that happen_, Hermione wondered.

Kingsley stood over the defeated Shraxen, levitating the bound forms of the other three death eaters, as the aurors prepared to take them back to the Ministry for questioning. Bill and Charlie leaned down then to help Ron stand, who swayed a bit with the effort, as if dizzy. Arthur momentarily opened a small window into the ward, letting the family plus those without the last name Weasley walk back through. Arthur immediately closed up the window once everyone was safe.

As soon as she stepped through the ward, Ginny was there, handing Rose back into Hermione's arms. Hermione gave a sigh of relief, holding her daughter close to her and inhaling her sweet soapy smell. She tried to thank Ginny but was having trouble finding her voice, so stunned and drained was she from the last twenty minutes. Ginny smiled and nodded in response, as if understanding.

Together the group walked back into the burrow, making surprisingly little noise. Ron was eased onto an armchair near the fire while Angelina and Audrey went about setting out medical supplies, to heal any cuts or sores caused by the fighting. Bill took Victoire from Fleur, kissing his child's forehead and then that of his wife's. Hermione stood in one corner, holding Rose, not ready to sit down. The fight or flight in her hadn't gone out yet.

There were several long moments before anyone spoke, and then there was an explosion of conversation.

"That was the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen!"

"I don't understand a bit of it…what was that blue ball of light?"

"Percy, have you ever read anything like this?"

"There were four of them, two of each. Madness!"

"He was hit, I swear he was."

"How'd he do it? What the bloody hell happened?"

The talk continued, everyone rushing to speak over one another and trying to puzzle it out. Sitting on opposite sides of the room, Ron and Hermione stared at each other. Neither blinked or looked away, just sat and looked with serious expressions on their faces. Ron looked almost contemplative.

It was Harry who finally called for order, putting his hands up to ask for quiet.

"I think I may have an explanation for all this."

All eyes flew to Harry, each person in the room searching for some sort of answer as to what had just occurred out there. Every witness saw Ron Weasley hit with the killing curse, saw him fall. Each felt the dread and horror of losing a son, a brother, a friend. Yet here he was, alive and for the most part unharmed.

"Take off your shirt Ron."

"Fine time for you to ogle Ron's business," George replied, the joke half hearted.

Ron looked at Harry with a question in his eyes but, like he had so many times in the past, followed his best mate's lead. Standing slowly as if it were a difficult task, Ron unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off, arm by arm. He hissed as the shirt fell away, as if something had hurt him. Feeling behind him, his hand explored the flesh of his back, searching for the source of the pain. Surprise registered on his face then, as if discovering something. Ron turned quietly, exposing his back to the rest of the room. There, running up and down his spine, was a long and narrow scar. It was shaped light a lightning bolt.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! Just a few more chapters to go!**_

Ron craned his neck over his shoulder, trying to get a good look at his back. There had been several gasps in the room after he had turned around, and now Ron wanted to know what all the fuss was about. He couldn't see what they were all staring at, but he could feel it…it was like some sort of cut slashed down his back, it's shape jagged like…

"It's a scar," Harry answered for his friend. "And it looks just like mine."

Harry fingered his own scar on his forehead as Ron whipped back around, astonished at the news. Understanding flooded his senses, he instantly knew what had happen. Still, he couldn't believe it. That would mean that she…that Hermione still… that maybe they could…

"What is that?" Lavender asked quietly, looking about the room to see if the others were as confused as she was. Not a one of them was; they all looked like they knew perfectly well why Ron had a near identical scar to Harry Potter's.

"How did you get that Ron? How were you able to survive that curse…did you do a shield charm?"

Lavender chewed worriedly on her lip. Ron sighed and pulled his shirt back on, quickly buttoning it back up.

"No, I didn't do a shield charm."

Ron seemed almost unable to go on, begging Lavender with his eyes to understand, to make the connection.

"I was willing to die for him," Hermione said then, uttering her first words since returning to the house. "It protected him. Just like Harry's mother was able to protect him with her love."

"Love?" Lavender said, as if not understanding the word. "You…you love him?"

All eyes were on Hermione then, but she didn't see any of them. She stared at Ron, in a way she hadn't allowed herself to look at him since he had first walked across the threshold of her cottage.

"Yes."

Her response was simple. She'd said the word plainly, it needing no embellishment. Yes, she loved Ron Weasley. It was the most obvious thing on Earth.

At her declaration, Ron let out the breath he had been holding and took a step toward Hermione. He was halted by Lavender, who put a hand on his arm to pause him. Ron looked back at her as if he had forgotten she was standing there.

"Ron?" Lavender searched him with her eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"Listen," Hermione interrupted. Both Lavender and Ron whipped their heads to look at her at the sound of her voice. Hermione's tone was steady and she was using that matter of fact voice she brought out whenever she was trying to put her foot down. "Everyone is safe now and we can all go on just as we were…I realize I've sort of turned everybody's world upside down the last few days, but that was never my intention. And I don't have any expectations." She looked down as she said that last word.

"Our choices are our own," Hermione finished. "Nobody's life has to change because of this."

Hermione nodded to herself, almost like she was trying to convince herself of what she had just said. Ron looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. All they had gone through and she was still trying to pull this. _Nobody's life has to change?_ Didn't she realize it already had?

"But you said you love him," Lavender said, her bottom lip trembling. She turned accusingly to Ron. "Is this…do you love her too, Ron?"

A collective silence hung in the air at the question. Lavender was looking up at him imploringly and Ron looked back at her, wishing there was some way to spare her this. Lavender was an innocent bystander in all of it, once again swept into the storyline of his and Hermione's tumultuous relationship. Ron shut his eyes for just a moment before opening them up again.

"Let's talk somewhere in private, okay?"

Lavender let Ron lead her away from the curious onlookers and into the kitchen. The kitchen door swung shut behind them.

"That'll be a fun conversation," George said, breaking them all from staring at the now closed door. His words brought the group back to its senses and activity resumed in the living room. Angelina and Audrey began tending to Percy and Charlie, who had some nasty scorch marks on their arms from a wayward hex. Harry sat down on a sofa, rubbing his temples. Ginny sat next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, relieved her fiancé had come out of yet another fight relatively unscathed. Molly walked over to the corner where Hermione still stood and motioned that she would take Rose, offering the young woman some help. Hermione started to protest, but Mrs. Weasley cut her off.

"You're going to need your arms free, dear."

Hermione stared at her, confusion written on her face. Mrs. Weasley just smiled back and took the child, her granddaughter, into her hands. Then, the door to the kitchen swung open and Ron walked back into the living room. Alone.

His gaze darted around the room, searching for something. When he landed on Hermione he gave her a determined look.

"Lavender's gone."

"Gone?"

Ron nodded at Hermione's question. Activity in the room paused once more as the family watched the scene before them, anxious to know what would happen next.

"She didn't need to leave, Ron," Hermione said quietly. This part was important, she needed him to understand this. "We've all received a glimpse of the future and that can be dangerous if you treat it like an edict. Your life is your own Ron."

Ron pushed two frustrated hands into his hair, running his palms over his scalp so that the hair became ruffled and messy. He shook his head as if to clear it and leaned forward a bit, resting his hands now on his thighs. His head hung down so Hermione couldn't see his face anymore, then he suddenly stood up tall once more.

"For someone so brilliant, you can be really thick sometimes."

Ron moved forward at that, walking with quick strides toward Hermione, crossing the room in five long steps. Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak, to throw out more attempts at reason or logic. Ron wasted no time to hear her protests, reaching out instead to grab Hermione roughly by the elbow and pulling her to him. Finally, after surviving so much danger and countless threats, outrunning obstacles and tempting fate, Ron was able to wrap his arms around Hermione at long last.


	23. Chapter 23

_**This is basically the last chapter, but there's also an epilogue that I'll post later today. Thanks so much for staying with this story through the ups and downs!**_

Hermione was overwhelmed in a sensory experience, feeling, smelling and touching so much of Ron at once after so much time spent going without him. At the first moment of the embrace, Hermione went stiff, an instinctive reaction from her body that had become trained to keep away from him. Almost as quickly, however, her body relaxed, melting into Ron's touch. It was like she had been drowning and was given that first gulp of air after breaking the surface of the water.

Hermione immediately threw her arms around Ron's neck in return. The gesture caused him to pull her even closer against him, as if he couldn't get close enough. Hermione vaguely heard somebody, Arthur maybe, say something about privacy and she sensed the others leave the room. Hermione pressed her face in the crook of Ron's neck, clutching at him like he might suddenly disappear. Ron held her head in place with one hand at the back of her scalp, rubbing the other hand up and down soothingly over her back.

Hermione realized then she was crying. Sobbing, really. All of the emotions that had hung over her for the last three years were being released at each caress of Ron's hands, reminding her how much she had nearly lost. She had been so lonely, the nights of depression and solitude tempered only with the knowledge she was protecting Ron. Now, he was here so close she could feel each breath he took and each flexing of his muscles. She wanted to cry out in gratitude.

"Th-that was a very stupid thing yo-you did," Hermione cried, pulling her head back to look at Ron. She spoke through her tears, sniffling and hiccoughing at the same time. "You we-weren't supposed to be there, it was m-my job….if you had died I would have never forgiven you Ron Weasley!"

She said the last part with a wail, as Ron used his thumbs to wipe away the fresh tears that fell. Hermione noticed his face was wet with tears as well.

"Had to," he said with a sniff. His fingers continued to run over her face, tracing her features…her brow, her jaw, her mouth. "I couldn't let you go Hermione."

Suddenly, it was too much for her. She felt all of the energy leave her body in one rush, her knees buckling and Ron keeping a hold of her. He slowly lowered them both to the floor, situating himself in a seated position and placing her in his lap. Her legs circled around him, her arms still around his neck, having never released him.

"I've been so scared, Ron," she said, her voice raw from the crying. "I th-thought I was going to l-lose you."

Ron nodded, his eyes wet and looking her over, his pupils darting across her face frantically. Memorizing her.

"You were wrong, you know," Ron said quietly. "My life isn't my own. Hasn't been for a long time. My life is yours."

Finally, the last bit of space left between then was too much. Ron held her face in both his hands and drew her to him, getting so close she could feel his nose and his eyelashes before she could feel his lips. Then, his mouth was on hers and she was lost in his kiss.

It started gentle, both of them tentative and out of practice with one another. Their lips brushed softly against one another, relearning each other. Each caress was like a new promise. Then, the passion that had always been there between them, be they rowing over prefect duties or fighting side by side in a battle against evil, took over with a frenzy. The intensity consumed them like a lit match and their kiss became more urgent, each pouring as much love, longing and promise as they could into one another.

Ron placed a row of kisses along her jaw line, sealing her to him and trying to taste as much of her at once as he could. Her fingers tangled in his hair now and he mirrored her actions, running his hands through her curly mane of hair as he had always fantasized of doing those long years at Hogwarts, when she had seemed so far out of his reach.

"I love you."

"I love you."

Neither spoke again for a long time, both lost in the embrace and reassuring one another that they were there, real and solid and not some imaginary phantom. After several long minutes they were pulled from their reverie by the sound of Harry's voice, who had stuck his head in from the kitchen door, checking in on them.

"Can we come back in yet?"

Without waiting for a response, the family re-entered. Ron helped Hermione up from the floor, smiling broadly at her. Molly walked up to Hermione, grinning herself, and handed Rose back to the young woman.

"Hermione," Ron said reverently. "Can I hold her?"

Hermione held Rose out to him in an instant, watching with amazement as he gently cradled their daughter in his arms. She watched him as he studied Rose's face, holding his fingers to her tiny hands. Rose grasped one finger and smiled prettily at him. Ron's face lit up immediately.

"Hermione, she's so…I've never seen…she's amazing."

"I know."

Arthur stepped forward then to look at the child and Ron wordlessly handed her over. The family members took turns holding her, each cooing and smiling at the new addition who was like a little miracle. Harry held her last, the little person who was real family, both a niece and a goddaughter.

"Hermione," Harry said suddenly, just thinking of something. "What happens now? Does she stay here with us?"

Hermione shook her head, confused. She had no idea. She'd never put a plan into action for this part, unable to see the light at the end of the very dark tunnel she had been in. Then, before she could open her mouth to form some plan, there was a knock at the front door. As Molly went to answer it, Hermione quickly took Rose back from Harry, feeling as if she were close to handing her over again. Ron stood strongly beside her with one arm around her waist- he, Hermione and Rose making a whole unit at last.

Molly walked back through the door, looking as if she had been confunded. She was followed by a figure, tall and muscular, wearing a long, dark coat. His ginger hair was shorter and he had the first signs of creases around his mouth, but he was still unmistakable. It was Ron Weasley, looking quite a bit older than he should have.

"Blimey," Ron whispered from beside Hermione. Hermione looked from the young man beside her to the older version standing still across the room. Her eyes grew large and her mouth flew open in surprise. Then she turned her full attention to this older Ron, speaking quickly.

"Are you insane?" she asked, stepping toward him briskly. "Honestly, have you lost all reason? Do you know what could happen with you coming here? Who could have ever put such a reckless idea into your head?"

Future Ron looked Hermione up and down appreciatively, obviously unconcerned with her lecture. He looked rather amused by it all.

"Actually, you did, love."

"I did?" Hermione asked, unconvinced. Future Ron simply nodded. "And why would I have suggested such an insane thing?"

"Well," he said, letting his gaze sweep around the room before returning his focus to Hermione. "We did discuss getting someone else, maybe even sending Dumbledore again. But in the end we figured you'd be a little hesitant to part with her, and you'd…"

"Only give her back to you," Hermione finished, comprehension flooding her. He nodded and smiled gently at her, taking Hermione in. He hadn't seen her look so young in quite some time.

"I'm mad at you about that."

"So what else in new?"

"I'm serious! Don't you ever go back in time again and get Dumbledore to come here and try to cart me off so you can stay behind to die alone!"

"Yes love," he said with a chuckle. "I will try very hard not to do that specific thing again."

Future Ron's eyes fell to Rose at that, looking over the child he hadn't seen in three long years. He'd had no idea whether or not he would ever see her again.

"How do we do this?" Hermione asked in a small voice. Future Ron smiled at her reassuringly, wanting to take her worries away.

"Mum," he said, looking up. "Do you have a blanket?"

Molly, still in a daze, nodded quickly. She brought him a small knit blanket from a basket and Ron motioned for Hermione to wrap the child up. He then reached out his arms to take the bundled Rose from Hermione. Hermione looked over her shoulder to where Ron, her Ron, was standing. He came up to put one hand at her back.

"It's okay," he whispered in her ear. "We can do this."

Hermione nodded and gave Rose one long, last kiss to the forehead, then handed Rose over to her rightful father. Wasting no time, Ron used his wand to place a spell over Rose, the magic seeping through and around the blanket to warm her all over. She fell quickly to sleep. Only then did this future Ron allow himself to truly look at his child, his eyes becoming wet as he held her close to his face.

"Hiya Rosie," he said softly.

Hermione let out her held breath, feeling a panicked sorrow at handing over the child she had raised for the past three years. But there was something else…hope, for what the future could be now.

"I'm going to miss her," she said quietly.

"We'll see her again," her Ron whispered from behind her.

"Don't worry," future Ron said then, holding Rose dearly to him. "When she wakes up she'll have her mother there. She'll recognize you, Hermione. She won't be scared."

Hermione nodded, taking a shaky breath and wiping a tear off her cheek.

"I need to get her back now. There is a certain mother who is very anxious to see this little person."

Future Ron turned to go, heading back through the door he came from.

"Wait," Hermione said suddenly, as if remembering something. "How have you and Harry been doing this? Moving through time?"

Future Ron laughed and pulled a thin gold chain out from under his coat, revealing a delicate time turner.

"It's yours, from third year. McGonagall never returned it to the department of mysteries so it was never destroyed. She gave it to you as a present on our…well, you know." His voice trailed off. "She thought you might want it as a keepsake."

He tossed the object to her and she caught it with one hand. Studying it, she saw a small inscription around the rim. Ron looked over her shoulder to read the engraving aloud.

"Property of Hermione Weasley."

Hermione's face broke into a grin, the first genuine smile in what felt like ages. Stepping back to her, the older Ron gently took the time turner from her hands and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to her temple.

"It's all going to be okay," he said, then turned quickly before he could reveal anything more. In an instant, he and Rose were gone. Hermione felt a wave of despair hit her as she watched her daughter disappear. Then, she felt Ron's steady grasp on her hand. She looked up at him and he moved to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. And she knew whatever the future held, she and Ron could face it together.


	24. Chapter 24

_**This is the end! I appreciate everyone's comments throughout the process. This was my first fanfic and the encouragement definitely helped keep me motivated to finish. Hope you enjoy this short epilogue!**_

**EPILOGUE**

"How about Cassiopeia, or Broomhilda? Or Admaris…or Antoinette…or Aphrodite?"

"Honestly."

"George and I made a whole list," Ron said, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket and reading aloud. "Syrriana, Fernanditta, Lucretia, Wisteria…"

Hermione continued walking resolutely down the white corridor, pretending to pay no attention to her husband. It wasn't an easy task. After four years of marriage, Ron Weasley still had the ability to make her laugh even when she was trying to put on her most serious face.

"There's Sahara, or Paloma, or Fabiola." Ron continued to recite names, each one more ridiculous than the next, as the couple moved through the corridors of St. Mungo's.

"Really, Ronald. We have no idea if this test will come back positive. And even if it does, there's no need to start coming up with names yet. It could even be a boy," she said pointedly, her hands on her hips as she and Ron stood waiting for the lift.

"That is true, love. I guess I'm just a bit distracted today with little _girl_ names," he replied with a grin, as the two stepped onto the lift. "You know, a girl's name is important, she's got a tradition to follow. We have a responsibility to give her as complicated a name as possible, all full of syllables and impossible for a toddler to pronounce."

"Oh," Hermione said as they finally arrived at their floor and stepped off. "And what would be the alternative? A simple, one syllable name beginning with R that even a prat could pronounce?"

"Yes, that would be one way to go as well."

Ron and Hermione moved down another hall, arriving before a door and pausing. Ron turned to his wife and placed his hands at either side of her face.

"The point is, we have the whole English language to pick from. Our choices are our own, right?"

"Right," Hermione said, smiling lovingly back at him. Just then, the door swung open to reveal Hermione's healer, Madame Mitrinsa.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, please come in. I have your results right here."

Ron and Hermione settled themselves into two chairs as Madame Mitrinsa sat behind her desk, pulling out a folder and flipping it open. Ron and Hermione held their clasped hands between them.

"I'm sure you're both anxious for the news so I'll get right to the point. Congratulations, you're pregnant."

Hermione laughed out loud in joy and Ron beamed at her, giving her a knowing wink.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?"

"Sure," Ron said casually, as if it made no difference in the world. "Why not?"

Madame Mitrinsa paused for a dramatic moment before revealing the secret to the couple, who looked not at all surprised when they heard the information.

"It's a girl."

Ron smiled widely at Hermione, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears. He leaned forward to whisper into the ear of his wife, his beloved, the woman for whom he would walk through hell and back for.

"I have the perfect idea for a name, love."


End file.
